Manhunt
by Teddster
Summary: Stuck with the Nether-god Herobrine, Sky and Ryan, now allies, must desperately figure out a way to stop the god before he conquers the Overworld. Meanwhile, Seto and the rest of Crafted Community are wanted criminals, playing a dangerous game of hiding with a trio of expert Inspectors, while a broken king rebels against the demonic Wither. [Sequel to Cops and Robbers]
1. Prologue - King

(I couldn't fit in into the description, but this is a YouTuber fanfic. If you're still interested, go to my profile and check out Cops and Robbers first!)

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**Book Two – Manhunt**

**Prologue - King**

Only his amulet kept Taylor sane in the three months of imprisonment at the hand of the Wither.

When he commanded that Seto leave while he battled the Wither, he did not expect to survive. So when he barely managed to survive an almost direct Wither blast – it was the power in his amulet, of course – a pair of Wither Skeletons dragged him to a prison section already in the fortress and dumped him in a cell. Due to pure quick thinking, he jerked the amulet off his neck and shoved it under a loose brick. It was a good decision.

Minutes – maybe hours – later, the worst torture he'd endured in his life begun. And it continued on a constant basis every single day while they tried to silently pursue something. He didn't even know what, and the demonic nethermobs never spoke audibly, so he never knew how, exactly, to break. Only images of unlocking the amulet's true power and destroying the demons kept him from trying to take his own life.

Currently he stood in his short cell. If he was lucky, he would leave the torture session with some tattered rags that he called a shirt – but he was not lucky today, and as such did not dare rest his bare skin upon the scalding bricks of the nether.

He'd stopped feeling in his feet weeks ago anyways.

A noise outside alerted him. Sluggishly, mind moving at the pace of a snail, his head snapped up, eyes widening as bones rattled nearby. There never were more than one torture session per day (he assumed; time didn't really pass in the Nether) and the last one had just ended a short while ago. The Wither Skeletons never came down here anyways.

A large, black skeleton appeared in his view through the slight slot in the door. He almost screamed, but his underused voice could not make out the words, and instead he simply stumbled backwards, careful not to push against the wall. The door opened and the skeleton lazily tossed something in before moving away.

He waited a full minute, eyeing the pile of clothes with distrust. After a moment he inched towards it, grabbing the first, rough clothing on top and jerking it upwards. It was a coat, and below it was a full set of clothes – tunic, trousers, breeches, socks and boots – along with a bottle. A thin, sun-colored liquid sat in the bottle. He hesitated – but if they were giving him clothes and a potion, they weren't planning to kill him, at least not right away.

He hesitated a moment longer before pulling each of the clothes on. He grimaced as the socks were pulled over his freshly scarred feet but ignored the pain. The trousers and coat were a light gray, the tunic simple white, and he buttoned the coat up. After a moment he picked up the potion and hurried to where he had stashed his amulet, pulling the brick free and marveling over the fact it was still there. He slid it over his neck, hiding it under the tunic and coat, before swiftly downing the potion, ignoring any consequences and thinking only of the heat.

The door swung open. A pair of Wither Skeletons stepped inside, and Taylor jerked away. Their swords slung across their backs, the pair leaped forward nimbly, their speed surprising him. Grips of iron wrapped around each of his arms and jerked him upwards, and he grunted, struggling lightly. The pair shook him, knocking his head into the wall and dazing him before carrying him from the cell.

Taylor was not sure how long they carried him through the fortress. Passing through the fortress, Taylor saw no blazes or pigmen, nor even any ghasts floating around in the nether air when he got a rare glimpse at it. Only skeletons, either tall and charred, or short and pale. The empty eyes of the archers always followed him.

They finally came to a room where, doors that were once ornate, were now shattered and on the floor, long gashes stuck in the wood. The Wither floated in their aimlessly, empty eyes locking onto Taylor lazily. With a start the king realized that each of the skulls had repaired themselves.

A withered hand latched onto his hair, jerking his head backwards, two fingers roaming downwards and holding his eyelids up. The Wither floated towards him lazily, and as his eyes began to burn, the middle-skull's eye sockets closed.

He jerked in surprise as a withered, hard 'eyelid' fell down from within and covered the sockets. It jerked back upwards, and his own, dark eyes stared back at him. His mouth parted in terror as the Wither's jagged teeth parted, angling for his face.

Taylor's screams echoed throughout the fortress.

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YouTubers "introduced" in this chapter: AntVenom (Taylor)

Some things you may need to know: This won't be posting on a weekly basis like CnR. Instead, it will update whenever the next chapter is ready.

I also have a Twitter account, which is linked in my profile. While mostly I just post about dumb bullshit I'm going to be posting about any updates to this or other stories I may start, so if you just want to glance at that occasionally you can.

Finally, the 1st chapter should be up within the next few hours, assuming everything goes well. So... See y'all soon!


	2. Chapter One - Rising

**Act One – Aftermath**

**Sky | Seto**

**1. Rising**

Sky grunted, dragging the wet squid on the ground behind him.

"Come now, you two," Herobrine drawled lightly, carrying three of the unfortunate creatures at once. "Only another half dozen."

Sky grimaced, unsure if the dampness on his forehead was water from the sea creatures or his own sweat. Most likely both, actually. His arms ached, and tentacles dumbly smacked into his body as the squid attacked him. Ryan was having a similar problem, Sky noted, trying to dislodge a tentacle wrapped dangerously around his neck. Maybe the squids could kill them both. That would be a humorous way to go.

Sky dragged the squid into the cave in the hill, feeling a sense of pity as he dragged the creature across rough rocks and onto cold stone. Stones and gravel dug into the squid's body, and its tentacles waved wildly before Sky couldn't take it anymore and halted. He drew the Great Blade, Sanglomore, shuddering as it whispered to him.

For a magical, talking blade, it sure loved the "taste" of blood a lot. Sky severely doubted that he could actually taste the blood, but still.

_Thanks, boss, _Sanglomore whispered as the blade plunged into the squid. Sky jerked the blade free, grimacing as the blood unnaturally slid off of it, not sticking to the blade.

Herobrine strolled by, casually gripping a tentacle of the dead squid and tossing it forward. It flew into the cave and splashed into the tiny pool that, once clear, was polluted with dozens of squid bodies. A tall, smooth rock towered above the pool, the only blemishes upon its surface the runes etched into it. Herobrine leaped over to the pool, landing at the small, shallow pool near the rock and standing on multiple squid bodies.

"Minecrafters," the god called. "I'd recommend stepping back."

Ryan and Sky scurried away from the pool like squirrels, pushing themselves against the wall as Herobrine closed his eyes, resting his palm upon a rune near the bottom of the rock. His mouth moved, yet Sky could not make out the low chants the god murmured.

Suddenly Herobrine pulled out an iron dagger, making a small cut on his index finger and smearing the blood across the rune. He smiled, sliding the dagger back into his boot and standing, swiftly leaping away from the pool and next to the pair of Minecrafters.

A large bubble appeared on the surface of the pool and popped. A moment later, the pool erupted, waters shifting wildly and then the water turned a sharp violet. Sky jerked his eyes away, swearing as the hill shook, pebbles fell from the roof above. He had the sudden, horrible image of the hill collapsing and crushing the three of them, and he tried to dash away, but an iron hand wrapped around his wrist.

Then there was a loud _pop! _and the world went back to normal. Herobrine smiled, relinquishing his grip on Sky and Ryan and striding towards the normal pool, now clear of squid bodies. Then the demon rose from it.

It was as if a squid was placed as the head on a writhing mass of tentacles that acted as a body. Tentacles of varying length and thickness moved about aimlessly, and the creature rose two muscular arms, tight, claws at the end of each and tight, navy blue skin pulled over its entire body. On the squid-head, a pair of eyes, the color of the sea, just a tinge darker than Sky's own eyes, roved around the cave, narrowing when the passed over the Minecrafters. The creature was at least ten foot tall, and had to bend lightly as the top of its head hit the ceiling.

"Ah, Azmaldour," Herobrine whispered softly, eyes glowing. Suddenly he bowed, back arching in a perfect 90 degree angle, arms pulled across his chest and eyes screwing shut. "It is grand for you to be in my service, noble water demon."

"You chose a _squid _for my form?!" was the first thing the demon growled. Its voice was horrible, hurting Sky's ears, as if its voice had to be dragged through a mixture of gravel and glass shards before reaching the Minecrafters' ears.

"Alas, it was the best option we have right now," Herobrine said. "Understand, noble demon-" Sky wondered if demons could actually be considered noble "-that my brother Notch watches the land, and my brother Jeb watches the sky. Traveling in the underground, my fragment of the Overworld, would not be efficient enough; but the seas are wild, untamed and unmonitored. Although it does sadden me you will not be able to assist me in retaking the Nether," he added.

Azmaldour's head jerked upwards, smashing into the rocky ceiling. The demon grumbled, saying, "Retake the Nether, my lord?"

"The Wither has taken my main fortress," Herobrine grimaced. "However, it will be a simple step to gather the mobs here and retake it. After that, I can take my Nether army, and Overworld army, and, along with you, take the Overworld. After that, the End and Aether will follow shortly."

Azmaldour, and Herobrine grinned. "Meanwhile, I have a task for you." He said no more words aloud, yet the demon nodded as if agreeing to orders. A moment later the demon's form rippled, and he melted into the sea, body and tentacles morphing into clear water. The pool overflowed for a moment before the demon's watery form rushed through a small hole in the pool that Sky did not note before, disappearing.

"Where," Ryan said, "exactly, did he go?"

"Can't spoil the surprise," Herobrine scolded. He shook his head, turning and stalking out of the cave. "Come, now, hurry. There's a small town nearby that's rumored to have an obsidian supply, and we need to get to pillaging it as soon as possible!"

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Thanks for the reviews! FFN was being a bit tricky with putting this chapter in, so I hope it all goes over well. Along with that, this is my main project at the moment, so it should hopefully update regularly!

(by the way, I'm plugging my Twitter again and will do so regularly because screw you, this is my story and I can plug obnoxiously if I want to)


	3. Chapter Two - N

**2. N**

Seto was not cut out for menial labor, and so he was ascended (slash relegated) to spy work within Crafted City (no relation to Crafted Prison, oddly enough.)

His magic assisted him in this. Currently he strolled through the streets of Crafted City, wearing a loose-fitting beige coat and black trousers. He wore a thin pair of silver glasses upon his face, and a wig was upon his hair to give the impression that his hair was a deep black rather than the chocolate brown it was.

The entire of Crafted Community (that was what Mitch had named their group now) were still wanted criminals, after all.

He glided along through the crowd smoothly, not hunching his back while trying to not bring too much attention to himself. Smoothly, he melted to the right, melting into the crowd and suddenly he was out of it, crouching low in a dark alley. He focused, casting his magic at the start of the alley, making it so any spare glance would most likely pass over him, and he padded along, holding next to the Crafted City Police Department building.

He stopped, gritting his teeth as he poured more magic into the mirage at the start of the alley. Now, if anyone peered in, they should see nothing but a normal alley. The more he changed it from how it was now, however, the harder it would be to hold up the mirage, but he was certain he had enough energy – he was fully rested and even then it was still a simple image. As long as the police did not have a magic user – which they did not, from his information – he should be fine.

Hurriedly, Seto grabbed the boxes and crates in the alley that he had been slowly storing there for a few days, stacking them near the wall. After a minute he climbed up onto his makeshift tower, balancing easily and trying to peer into the high window. He pushed himself to his toes, grabbing the ledge and pulling up, and just barely he could see inside. All he saw, however, was two heads of hairs – one blond and one dark brown. With a quick spell – frowning at the power usage – he put power into his ear, pushing it faintly against the glass and listening.

"...move onto new topics, please?" a voice pleaded. Seto could not tell which person spoke. "I've heard of some disturbing news in the east... Whole farms being destroyed, and-"

"Ha!" laughed a second voice. "Who cares about them? You're avoiding the topic, Boulderfist."

'Boulderfist' sighed. "Fine, then. Let's all get ourselves mad and riled up over the man who killed Xephos when that man is either dead or so deep in hiding our great-grandchildren will be lucky to hear his name."

"You idiot," growled the second voice again. "It's Sky, of course."

"You're an Inspector of the Law," Boulderfist said with a huff. "That's just a rumor, nothing more. You don't even have any evidence! It could have been _anyone else _at Crafted Prison. Or someone not. We don't know."

"He disappeared at the same time all the prisoners escaped," the second voice said. "Alright, fine, it _could _be _any _of the prisoners from there, true, but Sky was the 'Infamous Inspector' and all that, so he seems the most likely."

Seto started. He'd heard of the so-called "Infamous Inspector" who had murdered one of his fellow Inspectors, but had never really put much thought into it. In fact, he'd dismissed it as a rumor. At the same time, Boulderfist seemed to claim that the second voice wasn't really a trustworthy informant, so he took his words with a grain of salt.

Boulderfist stood, and Seto saw a small amount of skin before the man began pacing. "I don't quite understand it," he murmured. "They're completely off our radar." Then these spy runs were completely useless, Seto noted with dissatisfaction.

"It's like they've fled into another realm entirely," Boulderfist continued. Seto didn't think the man knew the irony in his statement. "And..." He trailed off as another voice – a new, third voice, Seto realized – mumbled something in a low voice.

"Hm?" said Boulderfist. "I'm sorry, R- Oh!" Footsteps, and then, "Well, Inspector Aviator, it seems there's someone spying on us."

Then the wall Seto was leaning against exploded.

Seto cried out, being flung through the air as bricks flew around him. He slammed into the wall of the building near him, letting his mirage drop as he slid to the ground. He grunted, pushing himself upwards when he froze in terror as a single form stepped out of the building.

His hair was short and blond, and Seto suddenly noticed a few gray hairs hidden within. His emerald green eyes were hard and and shimmered with amusement as he stared at the fallen sorcerer. His skin was lightly tanned, and he wore a pair of blue pants and a green tunic. A sword hung at his waist, yet he made no move for it. He was of average height, Seto noted – barely taller than himself – yet the thing that amazed him was the strength he seemed to possess, his arms and body surprisingly muscular. His fist hung in the air as if he had just punched straight through the wall. With a rising sense of terror, Seto theorized that he had.

"Hello!" the man said amiably, doing a mock bow. "My name is Inspector Guude Boulderfist, and I'd like to take you in for questioning!"

Inspector Guude sprang forward, and Seto rolled away, hand snapping out. A brick flew from his hand, propelled by his magic and slamming into Guude's side. The inspector twisted in midair, grimacing, and pushed a hand out, leaping to his feet in an instant. Seto snapped another brick up from the floor and turned to run.

Guude was faster than him, Seto realized quickly. The sorcerer was not an athletic man, and the inspector quickly began to gain on him. Seto swiveled suddenly, flinging the brick backwards and stumbling. Guude's fist flashed out, slamming into the brick, and it crumbled to dust that flew around him. Seto's eyes widened and his hands fumbled for his hidden dagger as the inspector slammed into him.

Seto's head snapped back as Guude wrapped his two hands on Seto's coat, jerking him into the air easily. Seto snapped his dagger forward, and it left a thin slash through Guude's shoulder. The inspector grunted, slamming his thick skull into the sorcerer's chest, when Seto remembered that he had magic.

He flicked the wrist of his free hand forward, slamming pure, unfocused magic into Guude's chest. Guude's eyes widened as they separated, Seto's coat ripping, and then the two of them were flying in opposite directions through the air. Seto grinned before he slammed through the wooden gate, losing control of his magic and flipping through the air. He smashed into the ground, groaning as the dagger slid from his fingers, but without thinking he pushed himself up and fled into the street.

He got odd looks at first, and then people moved to avoid him as a pack of police officers began chasing him.

Seto dodged through the streets and tried to melt into the crowd, but they rejected him. A pair of arrows clattered past him, bouncing off the cobblestone, and he swerved to the right suddenly. His breath ran out quickly, sweat sliding down his red face as he tried to wheeze for air. He stumbled into another alley, through another gate and jerking in a random direction, hearing the officers behind him.

In a last, split second decision, he loudly smashed into a dark building. He flung the door closed, peering into the dark, abandoned room. The windows were boarded up, and the door was rickety and barely hanging on his hinges. He slid against the door, pushing his weight against it, ready to fight the officers, but oddly enough they all stormed past.

He waited a few minutes, head in his hands, groaning. He stopped soon, rubbing his hands over his sore legs, when suddenly a voice cut through the air.

"Well, well, you're not the first young man to rudely barge into my shop."

Seto jerked upwards, flinging himself to his feet and summoning a tinge of magic into his hand. A men stepped out of the darkness, wearing a dark trench coat the covered his whole body and a black fedora. Seto could see a black beard jutting out from his chin, but otherwise his face was hidden in shadow.

"Oh, please now," the man scolded, waving a hand. Seto's hand twitched, and the magic quickly drained from his fingers. "You're here for a reason, and that reason is not to attack me with amateur magic."

Thoughts of suddenly defending himself from any attack the man could throw at him entered Seto's mind, and then suddenly they were gone. He could not imagine trying to harm this man. That was worrying.

Suddenly, Seto realized how bad a situation he was in. The man was clearly more powerful than him – enough so that he could easily disspell Seto's magic with a wave of his hand. Maybe Seto was an amateur compared to this man. He just knew that he wanted to leave this place, and _fast_.

"Now, now," chided the man suddenly, as if reading Seto's thoughts. "You and I, we need to have a chat first. Come."

The man turned, hobbling away without waiting for a response. Seto hesitated, but then stepped forward, letting a small trickle of power flood into his fingers. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with it, but he was keeping it there.

The man slowly stepped through the abandon building – apparently a shop of some kind – and stepped through a rickety door. He left the door open, instead seating himself on a dusty chair. Seto stepped inside warily, and the man motioned for him to sit at another, ragged chair. Seto remained standing.

"So, Seto, son of... Simon, is it?"

Seto jerked backwards, mind racing. Suddenly he did not want to be here, and he turned, trying to shove the door open, but the door wouldn't budge. He didn't remember the door being closed. Sweat rolled down his face, and then suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, but slowly began to calm down – against his will, as the man pooled magic into the sorcerer's body.

"Listen, Seto," the man said, stepping back. "I wish we could have a nice, long chat, but we do not. One of those Inspectors are coming for you, and no matter how much I mirage the area they will enter the shop eventually. So, first off, I must give you this."

The man reached into one of his many pockets, and Seto feared the worst for a moment until the man brought out an amulet. He held it up, letting it fall and unravel before Seto's eyes, and the sorcerer's eyes widened in surprise. The chain and amulet were gold, but the amulet itself had a deep, purple center.

It was the same amulet that Sky wore. The same amulet that Taylor wore.

"Where'd you get that?" Seto demanded suddenly, a barrage of questions rearing up in his mind.

"No time," the man emphasized. "You must take this and _hide it._" The man held it out, and Seto's mind raced. Was he somehow related to either Sky or Taylor? The sorcerer had assumed that both the men were deceased, but he wondered... There was no way this could be the same amulet that either of them wore, he decided. But he had it, and that may be some link to either of them...

Seto grabbed the amulet, stuffing it into his pocket hurriedly.

"Good," the man said, turning and walking away, gesturing for Seto to follow. The sorcerer did so. "You must not allow the Inspectors to capture you, and you must not, under all circumstances, must _not _allow any of them to get this."

"I don't plan-" Seto started, but the man snapped and cut off his comment.

"The Inspector will be here in a minute," the man said. "He will find an empty building. Here," the man said, stopping at a door. "Take this, stick to the back alleys and do not enter Crafted City soon unless you must. Go."

"But," Seto started, and the man turned, hidden gaze drilling holes into him. Seto gulped. "If I may inquire, what is your name?"

"Name," the man mused, then shrugged. "I've had a lot over the years. You... You may call me N, simply, if you wish. Now, please go before we are captured, and good luck."

N opened the door, and without hesitating anymore, Seto fled out of the building and began his task of fleeing Crafted City.

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YouTubers in this/last chapter: Sky (SkyDoesMinecraft), Ryan (xRpMx13), Seto the Sorcerer (Setosorcerer) Inspector Guude Boulderfist (Guude Boulderfist of Mindcrack)


	4. Chapter Three - Luthan

**3. Luthan**

"Sky," Herobrine called irritably. "Ryan. Why are the two of you in a tree?"

Since Sky seemed too busy wrapping his arms around the trunk of the thick oak tree and holding himself up, Ryan took it upon himself to swing down to a lower branch and, holding himself up with his legs, state, "There was a dog."

"A dog," Herobrine replied flatly.

"A dog," Ryan confirmed.

"A dog sent the wielder of Sanglomore up hiding into a tree?"

"Well it's a pretty vicious dog, man."

There was a loud bark, and Herobrine growled, stalking around the tree. Indeed, there was a dog, shaggy white fur bristling and eyes tinged with red. The dog turned, baring its teeth before its eyes locked with Herobrine's white pits. The dog's ears fell, and it promptly turned and fled.

Gracefully, Ryan dropped from the tree, hands snatching a low-hanging branch and performing a short flip before he landed. In parallel, Sky fell from the tree and landed on the ground with a dull _thud, _rubbing his backside as he stood. Herobrine sighed, reaching into his pocket and fishing for something before turning away for a minute, fumbling with it. A minute later he turned back to the pair, and instead of blank, white pits his eyes were normal, a deep brown color.

"Pfft," said Ryan. "What, are you trying to be Steve?"

Herobrine stared at him blankly. The contacts were rather unsettling, to be honest.

"You mean the Minecrafter that was modeled after _me, _yes?" Herobrine said with a raised eyebrow. "In all honesty Steve was trying to be me."

"The Church of Notch states that you were a demon-god that came to life because of the First Minecrafter's evil," Ryan noted, remembering all the religious scripture from his youth.

Herobrine went still.

_Oh, boy, _Sanglomore mumbled.

Herobrine's white eyes blazed with intensity and they narrowed at Ryan, fists clenching and body stiffening. The god stalked forward and, for a moment, Ryan legitimately feared for his life. Herobrine grabbed Ryan's shirt, tugging him close and staring into his eyes, and Sky's hand drifted to Sanglomore at his side. Then Herobrine paused, breathing outwards and he let Ryan go, pushing him away slightly and shaking his head.

"Obsidian stash," Herobrine mumbled. "You are to find out if it exists and, if so, where it is. When you know, report to me."

"Can't you, like, just teleport around, though?" Ryan questioned. Sky shot him a short glare, not willing to risk angering the god again.

Herobrine, however, sighed faintly. "Yes, but I'd rather not go teleporting into solid rock. And this is a better solution than razing the village and digging up the ground, is it not?"

"I suppose so," Ryan mumbled, and Herobrine pushed him off towards the village. Sky followed silently, a frown forming on his face.

Conveniently, Herobrine left out the fact that he planned to raze the village either way.

* * *

"Don't worry, Sky," Ryan said cheerfully, lazily playing with a dagger. Sky eyed him warily, afraid that he'd end up accidentally stabbing himself. "We'll get away from him. Probably. As long as there aren't any hostile dogs stopping us."

"Ryan, you're going to stab your eye out," Sky grumbled. "It's like running with scissors. Didn't your mother ever tell you about running with scissors?"

"But I'm not running with scissors," Ryan said innocently, though he slid the dagger back into its holster at his waist.

The two were getting closer to Luthan, and they could tell. Slowly, more and more little, wooden huts came into view, and the ground slowly began to change from overgrown with flowers and shrubs to clean grass, carefully tended by sentient hands. They passed farmers out tending their crops, mostly giant-nosed villagers that waved amiably to the pair of Minecrafters.

"So," said Sky. "Should we actually try to find this obsidian, or...?"

Ryan sighed, but nodded. "I don't want to be the cause of these peoples' deaths, Sky," he muttered. "And..." He paused, staring off into the trees, and Sky turned to follow his gaze. Leaning out from a tree, in plain view, was a tall, green creeper. The creeper's black eyes locked with Sky's, then Ryan's, and then it pulled back into the forest, out of sight.

"That's a very valid point," Sky whispered, and the two turned back to Luthan with a hurried pace.

The rest of the walk was made in silence. Sky stewed in his own thoughts, ignoring Sanglomore's attempts at conversation – most of which involved praising "Lord Herobrine" or blabbering about blood – and instead let his mind race on working to find a solution to their problem. Herobrine was a god – simply running wasn't a very good plan. Plus, there was Sanglomore – if they fled, Herobrine would (theoretically) be able to track them down using the sword, and abandoning it wouldn't be a smart option, as that would leave Sky and Ryan with barely any weapons and no food, money or supplies otherwise. Not to mention the mobs, who worshiped Herobrine as, well, a god.

Though they weren't certain that Herobrine could track down Sanglomore – neither god nor sword would confirm – Sky didn't want to take the chance.

Then Luthan came into view. It wasn't particularly impressive – just a set of a few dozen homes made of simple cobble, stone and oak woods. The houses clearly valued width more than height – the buildings were short and fat, and thrown into uneven rows that would hurt serious growth if the village valued it. The ground around it was flat and empty of most wildlife, though occasionally there would be a tree or pond. The most impressive parts about the village seemed to be the watchtower at the edge of the village, Sky's direction, a tall tower made of light and dark oak woods with a sentry at the top, and the town hall, a large, multi-floor building made out of quartz. That was odd – quartz was rare, mostly only found in block-form in dungeons deep below the ground.

Sky vaguely remembered seeing something that faintly looked like quartz in the Nether, but dismissed it. Quartz naturally growing in the Nether was a silly notion. Nothing good came from the Nether.

Their first goal was to locate the village mayor slash elder slash miniature king, whatever they called themselves. Herobrine suspected that – if this stash of obsidian actually existed – it would be somewhere under the town hall, maybe accessed from a hidden passage in the basement.

They entered the village, ignoring the sharp gaze of the watchman in the tower. The streets weren't anything compared to bustling cities Sky remembered from his younger days, before Crafted Prison, but they were busy for the small village. Men and women, wandering around without much definite purpose, occasionally stopping to chat with a friend. Sky liked it. If the situation were very different, he may have considered settling here.

But right now he had to stop a wrathful god from destroying it.

Ryan slowed, grabbing Sky's sleeve and pointing to the town hall. A man stood there.

"He looks official," Ryan muttered, and Sky shrugged, directing the pair towards him.

The man was a full head taller than both the other Minecrafters, and his skin was a tinge paler. He wore navy overalls over a long-sleeved scarlet tunic, and wore a pair of white gloves and worn, brown shoes. Oddly, he wore a cape, a blue the color of the ocean with an ingot of gold printed in the middle. The man turned to the pair of Minecrafters, and they saw that he wore a red hat; on the front was a white circle and a red letter "S." His eyes were dark brown and dark circles were barely visible under his eyes, and a large, bushy black beard covered his chin.

"Hello there!" Ryan said as introduction, bowing lightly. "Would you happen to know where the mayor-?"

"That's me," the man said, eyeing the two. "Well, technically. The actual mayor's gone for now, and I'm filling in as replacement. You can call me Seth."

"Perfect, then," Ryan replied cheerfully. "We're-"

"A pair of traveling adventurers looking for work in our village?" Seth interrupted. Ryan halted, nodding lightly, and the man sighed. "Those come in a lot. There's a board over there. Just grab a paper, do a job and return to me."

There was a call from nearby, and Seth sighed, stalking off with a short wave of goodbye. Ryan frowned, and then shrugged as the pair of Minecrafters wandered over to the board Seth had mentioned.

It was a tall, wide wooden board, with dozens of papers stapled onto it, detailing jobs that needed to be done. Sky's eyes scanned the papers, ignoring the pitiful rewards mentioned at the bottom and instead looking for anything that took them into the town hall. It took him a minute to spot it, but when he did his hand snatched out, ripping it free from the board. Ryan glanced at him, and Sky handed him the paper, letting him scan over it.

"Spider infestation in the town hall basement," Ryan murmured aloud. "It's almost too perfect."

"Except for the fact that you don't have a weapon, besides that dagger of yours," Sky grumbled.

"Sorry that we can't all have magical swords made by Herobrine," Ryan retorted. Sky shrugged.

"Listen, Ryan, you're not going in with just that dagger," Sky said. Ryan opened his mouth to protest, and Sky continued on. "Just go, I don't know, punch a tree or something and get a sword."

Ryan frowned, but nodded. Sky shoo-ed him away and, still frowning, he jogged off. Sky stuffed the paper into his pocket, resting his hand on Sanglomore and striding towards the town hall. Hopefully he'd be able to get rid of the spiders quick and without too much trouble.

* * *

Half an hour later, covered in a few dozen spider bites and stomach empty from all the vomiting the tinier, poisonous creatures had made him do, Sky dragged himself up onto the first floor of the town hall again. Spider blood mixed with his own – though, as always, Sanglomore stayed clean of blood as much as he hungered for it – and he groaned, small pricks of pain stuck on him. The woman behind the desk gave him a short, sympathetic glance.

He rested against the wall for a few minutes, holding his head and groaning. He'd probably need new clothes now, and he always felt bad when Herobrine was forced to teleport into a store and steal their goods.

The door swung open and Ryan stepped in, carrying a long, wooden staff. He frowned as he spotted Sky and hurried over to him.

"You'd be a bad exterminator," Ryan said as he stopped near his ally on the ground. Sky groaned, shrugging.

"I killed about seventy percent of them, I believe," Sky grumbled. "Come on. It's your turn to whack some spiders around while I can..." He halted, glancing at the woman behind the desk, who was scribbling on a paper and not paying any attention to them. Quietly, he continued, "look for this secret obsidian stash. If it even exists," he added with a grimace.

Ryan led the way down the stairs, staff held out in front of him. "No light?" he mumbled aloud with annoyance, and Sky nodded towards an unlit torch on the wall.

"Oh, thanks," Ryan mumbled. "Mind pulling a flint and steel from the Void and lighting it?"

Sky raised Sanglomore and flicked his wrist towards the torch. A small snake of fire leaped from the sword, easily lighting the torch. Sky smirked at Ryan's astonishment, quickly lighting all of the other torches. Ryan shook his head, murmuring something as he continued downwards, careful to avoid the dust left behind from deceased mobs.

There was a loud hiss, and dozens of blood-red eyes opened as they were forced from the darkness. Ryan raised his staff as the beasts dashed forward, scuttling easily on eight, thin legs. Despite his comment Sky helped, sending waves of flame to ward off the creatures as Ryan danced around them, smacking them with his staff. When their numbers thinned a bit Ryan waved him off - "Come on, Sky, I can handle a handful of oversized bugs, really now, never needed your help in the first place," - and Sky went to searching the basement.

As Ryan led a large spider in a continuous circle and smacked it on the head, Sky scanned the basement. He peered under the boxes and crates stack in the basement, carefully pulling them out and waving Sanglomore to kill any finger-sized spiders. He occasionally peered in boxes filled with papers but mostly ignored them, instead inspecting the walls for hidden passages. Soon enough Ryan joined him, done with all the spiders and ready to help. (With, Sky noted with a small note of satisfaction, multiple spider bites.)

Nearly twenty minutes later, they'd accomplished nothing but splattering more blood onto the ground and probably spending more time than need be in the basement. The two, despondent and frustrated, stood from their position in one corner of the basement and began to trudge back to the stairs.

"They're hiding this really well," Ryan mumbled, wiping some stray spider blood off the back of his neck. "You know, assuming it exists."

"Also assuming that it's actually here, under the town hall," Sky grimaced. Sky slid Sanglomore back into his sheath, ignoring his constant mutterings if _blood, _and the pair of Minecrafters ascended the stairs to the town hall in silence. The woman was still there, still doing paperwork, and with a quick glance through the door showed the sun going down. Sky turned to the woman.

"Would you happen to know where the, err, mayor is? Seth?" Sky asked. She looked up from her paperwork, startling Sky slightly with her eyes, one green and one blue.

"If you're looking to turn in the spider-clearing job, then you can just give that to me," she said, absentmindedly going back to her paperwork. "You'll have to come back tomorrow for your reward, though. Although," she paused, looking over the two of them, "I'm sure we could at least let you stay at an inn or something as part of that reward."

Handing her the paper and frowning slightly, imaging two empty white eyes drilling into his back, Sky said, "I don't think we can stay for that, sorry."

* * *

So I just realized that, throughout the whole of Cops and Robbers, FFN never saved my formatting and thus all my linebreaks never appeared. So that's kind of annoying.

YouTubers introduced this chapter: Makeshift Mayor Seth (SethBling)


	5. Chapter Four - Crafted Community

**4. Crafted Community**

Leaving the city was surprisingly easy for Seto. He kept the wig on, instead melting into the shadows as N had told him to do. The whole time he was alert, paranoid, letting magic sizzle in his clenched fist. The police were in a frenzy – which proved to be a small problem, but nothing a bit of his mind-based magic couldn't handle at the city walls. Soon he was out of the city and into the forest, looping around to angle himself back towards Crafted Community.

When he arrived, as always, Seto wasn't sure what, exactly, to think of Crafted Community.

It was settled in a small clearing in the forest, the main "building" dug into the side of an existing hill. A few other small, box-shaped buildings were clustered around the edges of the clearing, made for function rather than fashion – entrance to their mine, a sort of sickbay, and a storage room. In the hill were the rooms where everyone slept, plus a meeting room if Mitch ever decided that official business had to be discussed by everyone.

Speaking of Mitch, the Crafted leader stepped out of the sickbay at that moment, groaning and rubbing his head. He wore his signature outfit – red and black checkered jacket, white shirt, navy trousers and his dog-tags, along with a quiver of arrows and a bow across his back – but it was clear he was in bad shape. His hair was long and unkempt, rough stubble coated his chin and his eyes were sunken, filled with exhaustion. Seto kind of pitied the man.

Seto jogged over to Mitch and tapped him on the shoulder. Mitch stopped his slow trek to the main building and turned to the sorcerer, an eyebrow quirking up.

"Aren't you still supposed to be in the city?" Mitch asked. Seto shook his head, and the pair began walking to the main building together.

"Well, yes, but..." Seto paused his speech for a moment, considering his words. "Mitch, there are two Inspectors in the city."

"Two?!" Mitch snapped, eyes widening as he opened the door into the main building. "That... why two?"

"They're still looking for us, apparently," Seto murmured. "Apparently the death of an actual inspector isn't a light thing. They also think Sky is alive – think he's the one that killed Xephos, and also think he's that Infamous Inspector guy."

Mitch halted, mouth parted slightly in shock. "...Sky?!"

Seto nodded, and the pair resumed walking again, Mitch leading them to his room slash office. The two resumed in silence for a moment – at one point, SSundee ambled past, sunglasses planted on his face, offering a slight greeting before continuing past – before arriving at Mitch's office.

"Anything else?" Mitch said tiredly.

"Well, uh," Seto began, dreading this part slightly, "they sort saw me, Mitch." The Canadian stilled, eyes narrowing towards Seto. "I'm not sure if they can positively identify me, but-"

Mitch let out a shuddered breath, leaning his head against the door. "Hell," he mumbled. "Hell!" He swiveled, grabbing Seto forcefully. "Seto, this is all falling apart! Hell, we're all still wanted criminals, Husky's come down with some horrible sickness and none of us have _any _sort of medical training!" He paused, shaking his head and opening the door. "Heck, Bodil's been spending too much time in Crafted City as is. That's a timebomb," he added under his breath. "And then Ty is slipping out every night! He looked like he was ready to attack me when I tried to stop him last..." He stopped, shaking his head again and sighing. "Never mind that. You're done for the day, Seto. Go rest or something, I suppose."

Mitch shut the door and, with a sense of despair weighing him down, Seto wandered off to his room.

* * *

All he saw was death.

Surrounding him, the sorcerer saw death and pain and destruction. Villages burning, people crying out in despair, blood running down a hill. Crafted Prison in ruins, Crafted City razed to the ground and Crafted Community just a burn out husk of a forest. All the villages and towns and cities he was in during his youth of travel, destroyed and dead.

Then there were the people.

All of them, all people he knew, tortured and dead. His mother and father, even his older brother, all charred corpses. His friends in Crafted Community, all panicking as lava seeped into a building they were stuck in. Inspector Guude, Inspector Xephos and even some of the Crafted Prison guards he'd barely interacted with, all run through with pikes. Sky and Taylor, flat on their backs with dozens of gashes criss-crossing their bodies.

Then the pain began, as if dozens of sharp, hot rods had pierced the sorcerer's body. He screamed, vision blurry, vaguely aware of his surroundings. His body spasmed, jerking around against his will, and numbly he felt one of his hands straying towards his neck, wrapping around something and then-

Seto gasped, jerking upwards as he flung the purple-and-gold amulet away from his body. He let out a series of shallow breaths, beads of sweat sticking to his body as he jerked upwards from his laying position. His bare feet paused on the cold, wooden planks, the sharp air chilling his unprotected skin. Seto sighed, brushing a stray piece of hair from his eyes and eyeing the amulet with distaste.

He didn't remember putting the amulet on. Last thing he remembered, it was still stuck in his trousers pocket. Damned magical items, Seto thought with a grimace. Faintly he heard the light patter of rain smacking into the hill, thunder roaring above occasionally, and then-

There was a light tapping at his door, and hurriedly Seto fumbled with the chest under his bed, pulling on a pair of trousers and a tunic. The knock repeated and, grumbling under his breath in annoyance, Seto stood in his hastily dressed form and stumbled over to the door, throwing it open. Ty stood there, hand on the hilt of his sword and one revealed eye shining with concern.

"Are you alright, Seto?" the youngest member of Crafted Community asked quietly. The sorcerer nodded, sighing, and Ty continued. "I sort of heard you, uh, yelling, and..."

Seto held up his hand, halting the other man, and said, "It's fine, Ty. Just a... a dream, is all."

Ty hesitated for a moment longer, before murmuring something and turning away.

"Don't you go out at night?"

Ty stilled as the question flew from the sorcerer's lips, an air of accusation he hadn't meant to let slip laden in it. Ty paused, not turning to face the sorcerer, fingers curling slightly, before he quietly responded, "I don't like the rain."

He stalked off without saying anything else, and Seto sighed, closing the door and leaning against the wall. Seto eyed the amulet and, giving up on any notions of sleep, stood to fully dress himself and brew up some potions.

* * *

Ugh. I am just so sick of stuff right now. Currently I'm running on 30 hours no-sleep, my muse is flat out dead, I've got silly important test things in school tomorrow and, on top of that, I've had to move all of my info to Firefox because Chrome seems to be breaking a lot for no reason. _Until I figured out that __my formatting is so dead when I input it in Firefox, so I have to do all the last minute linebreak-related edits and etc in Chrome again. _Hell.

YouTubers in Crafted Community as a whole, just to save time: Ty (Deadlox) Mitch (BajanCanadian) Jerome (JeromeASF) SSundee (SSundee) Bashur (Bashurverse) Bodil (Bodil40) Jordan (CaptainSparklez)

Sorry for any errors. Updates will hopefully resume regular-schedule soon.


	6. Chapter Five - Trust

**5. Trust**

"Oh, great job," Herobrine drawled. "You killed some spiders. Really, now. You've helped so much."

"We spent _way too much time _in that dang basement," mumbled Sky darkly.

"And got way too many spider bites out of it, too," Ryan added in, picking at some of the bites absentmindedly.

Herobrine sighed, leading the two through the dark clearing, the moon the only light the Minecrafters had. Zombies, skeletons, creepers and spiders all peered out at them from the shadows, bloodthirsty gazes locked onto the Minecrafters. Sky kept his hand on Sanglomore at all time – though he wasn't sure if the sentient sword would ally with him or the god of destruction. However, at the moment, the mobs seemed content with simply glaring their way, Herobrine apparently keeping them at bay.

Herobrine disappeared at the Minecrafters' makeshift home – a short, hollowed out hill – dispersing into gray smoke and floating away. Inside the hill, past a simple wooden door with no way to view inside, lay two sleeping bags and a wardrobe stuffed with varying clothes. Sky leaned against he hill as Ryan stepped inside, shutting the door quickly behind him. A zombie shuffled up next to Sky, uncomfortably close, and Sky didn't realize Sanglomore had slightly slid from his sheath at first.

The zombie and Minecrafter stared at each other awkwardly for a minute. Sky had to push his willpower to the fullest to prevent himself from stabbing the mob.

"So," he said, a blatantly forced air of casualness to his voice. "You're a, uh, zombie."

The zombie groaned.

"Mhm. How's that working out for you?"

The zombie groaned once more, raising its jagged fingernails to scratch the top of its head for a moment.

"Yep, that's... Yep."

"Sky, are you talking to the zombies again?"

Sky let out an unmanly yelp, leaping away from the door as Ryan, in new, fresh clothing, raised an eyebrow at him. Sky stumbled into the zombie, which groaned again and limped away, and the Minecrafter let out a breath, letting Sanglomore fall once more.

"He was a good source of intelligent conversation," Sky said with a straight face. Ryan shook his head, smirking lightly as he stepped out of the hill and allowed Sky inside. Quickly, before Ryan began a chat with any mobs, he washed away the dried blood on his body with a basket of lukewarm water, then quickly dried and redressed himself. He hurried over to the door, letting it swing open silently. Then, without another word, he lay Sanglomore out of its sheath and against the wall and slid into his sleeping bag, letting himself slide into sleep.

* * *

The dreams were the worst.

Images of his friends' death and the world ending around him plagued Sky's sleep; they'd started a month after he escaped the Nether, and, personally, Sky blamed Herobrine. As such, his sleep was interrupted multiple times throughout the night, him jerking upwards, eyes wild as he lunged for Sanglomore. The sword assured him that everything was fine – Sanglomore didn't sleep, apparently – and so Sky would set the sword back down and hesitantly slide into sleep again.

He was in the process of seeing Ty being dismembered once more when something slammed into his ribs. Sky's eyes jerked open as he was ripped from the nightmare, leaping upwards as Sanglomore floating in the air above his sleeping spot. Ryan was nowhere to be seen.

_Wake up, _the sword said. _Sun's up and you still have a job to do._

Sky grumbled but stood, dressing himself in a long-sleeved white tunic and black trousers, strapping Sanglomore to his waist before striding out of their hill-shelter. Sanglomore was exaggerating; the sun was just barely cresting above the hills as the light of dawn sluggishly fled. Nearly all the mobs were gone – they always were, once the sun came up – though a few spiders and a single creeper were still there. Each of the mobs glared at Sky; the Minecrafter ignored them, not interrupting his stride as he angled towards where Luthan was.

He met Ryan halfway down the trail, coming back towards their shelter. Ryan grinned, pulling a large pouch from his belt; metal clinked in it as he shook it before returning it to his belt.

"We got paid for that spider-clearing thing," Ryan explained, turning to follow Sky as the pair went to walking towards Luthan. "So it wasn't a complete waste of time. We can actually not steal stuff now!"

"Woohoo," Sky deadpanned, twirling a finger lazily. "And how much progress have we made on getting away from the crazy-god or saving Luthan?"

"Absolutely zero."

"Well this is just going well, isn't it?" Sky said.

Ryan sighed, shrugging. "So," he said, "should we find another excuse to go back into that basement?"

"Don't think so," Sky mumbled, mind racing. "It'd be a bit suspicious to keep going back there, wouldn't it?"

"I guess," Ryan said. "Then-"

"How about befriending the mayor?"

Sanglomore was in his hand before his mind could catch up. Ryan let out an aggravated sigh, eyes narrowing, and with a groan Sky sheathed Sanglomore once more. Herobrine, now standing behind the two, shrugged innocently.

"Befriend the mayor," Herobrine said, "get him in a position to confirm or deny both the existence of this obsidian and its location, and we can continue on."

"Do you mean the legitimate mayor," Sky asked, "or Seth?"

"I suppose the Minecrafter running it now would do," Herobrine said. "After all, I must work under the assumption that the previous mayor _may _have been a very devout Notch-worshipper and trained priest, and _may _have sensed my presence on the two of you, and _may _have met an unfortunate accident while going out to cure a religious taint that _may _have never existed..."

The two Minecrafters stared at him.

"Yes, I mean Seth."

"Hold on," Ryan said. "That plan seems like it _may _take a bit of time-"

"Then I recommend you get started." With that, the smirking Herobrine dispersed into smoke and floated away.

"Well," muttered Sky. "I guess we may as well get started.

* * *

"So, Seth," Ryan said, increasing his pace to catch up to the irritated new-mayor. "Where do you happen to be going, alone and armed, early in the morning?"

Seth sighed, shifting in his chain-mail tunic, increasing his pace as he murmured something. Not to be deterred, Ryan hurried after him, Sky following shortly.

"What was that, again?" Ryan asked innocently.

Seth sighed, shoulders slumping as the legitimate thought of stabbing the man next to him flashed into his mind and then was discarded. "There are some bandit camps nearby," he said. "I'm going to deal with them."

"And why is the mayor doing that?" Sky questioned curiously.

"Because that was my job before I had to take over as mayor until Gizzy comes back," Sky averted his gaze guiltily, "and now no one else is around to do it."

"We can help," offered Ryan quickly.

"You won't get paid," Seth said, as if that would turn them back. It probably would, if they weren't being forced into this by a god, Sky thought.

"Don't care."

Seth sighed, thinking of no polite way to turn them back, and reverted to his previous walking pace, nodding resignedly.

The rest of the walk was made in silence.

* * *

Sky had to admit, Seth was a much better fighter than he'd assumed at first.

The man was nimble and quick – admittedly not as fast as Ryan – but, unlike Ryan, had no qualms about actually stabbing the bandits. Seth leaped through the confused bandits, jabbing outwards with his iron saber before dancing away.

Ryan's tactic was similar; he'd mostly leap into large groups of enemies, utilizing confusion and long reach for a few quick strikes. After that he'd roll around under their feet, lashing out with his staff and feet and hands, leaping up and over enemies occasionally.

Sky, however, stuck to dueling opponents one at a time – two, if he was in a bad situation. His swordsplay was masterful, easily cutting down the unskilled bandits. His only real threat was being overwhelmed and, as such, consistently used Sanglomore's flame to knock people away. Seth made no comment about the sword's ability, though Sanglomore himself relished the blood all around him.

The bandits were settled in a deep cave, the large, artificially shaped room lit by an overabundance of torches (though Sky couldn't blame them; mobs would appear anywhere it was dark, as if they could teleport to a single patch of darkness.) As such, there was only one entrance to the hideout that wasn't very well guarded. The three Minecrafters from Luthan had the advantage of surprise, which contributed to the battle lasting no more than a few minutes.

When they were done, Seth stalked over the corpses in distaste and surveyed each body. None of them were left alive – though some of them had managed to flee out of the cave – and as he was going over the, Seth continuously mumbled insults to bandits. Sky and Ryan watched awkwardly, and when he was done, Seth stood up straight and, without a word, stalked out of the cave.

"So!" Ryan said as the two hurried to follow. "What next?"

"We go to the next bandit camp," Seth replied simply.

"Right," Ryan said. "How many of those are there, exactly?"

"Four more."  
"_Four?!" _

"Four," Seth confirmed.

"That's a lot of bandit camps!"

"Why do you think I came out here to clear them?"

Seth cut off Ryan's next sentence by turning and beginning his journey towards the next bandit camp. Ryan mumbled something dark under his breath before following; Sky slowly began to trek after but paused, spotting something. Into the trees, a flash of sunlight bouncing off metal caught his eye – Sky wondered if it was one of Herobrine's mob scouts and, to possibly confirm his own fears, Sky slowly stalked towards it.

When he'd passed the trees and found what had caught his attention, his blood ran cold.

There, sticking out of the dirt with numerous chips in the once-smooth metal and dried blood adorning it, was a golden trident.

* * *

Okay, I'm not actually sure what's wrong, but I can't put anything into Document Manager on Firefox because the formatting is absolutely destroyed and it seems to be incredibly odd on Chrome, so if you see any weird formatting (like missing words or randomly bolded sentences) blame that and message me.


	7. Chapter Six - Fragments

**6. Fragments**

The Crafted Community meeting room was loud.

Seto groaned as the group chatted around him, arguing various points with varying amounts of care and tone. He was tempted to cover his ears, but refrained from it – despite the annoyance, this still was technically an important meeting. Seto glanced at Mitch, who was desperately trying to regain control of the meeting, then to Jordan, who, as the officially elected co-leader, was trying to do the same. Seto sighed, rubbing his temples slightly.

The flames in the room were jerked from their torches, smashing together to form a large ball before being slammed into the stone ceiling. The group members quieted as the room was plunged into darkness.

"Hush," said Seto simply, carefully sending more magic to relight the torches. "Be civilized, please. You're giving me a headache."

Mitch spared the sorcerer a grateful glance before turning back to address the entire group. "Listen, everyone," he began. Husky opened his mouth, and Seto's fingers curled on the table. The mudkip swiftly shut his mouth.

They were discussing if they should migrate Crafted Community away from Crafted City – turns out a lot of the group members slipped out at night.

Seto dazed out as the debate raged on around him. Apparently some of the Crafted Community members had made friends as they slipped into Crafted City (sometimes in the day, even) and while Seto could see how the others were tired of Crafted Community, but it was a rather silly reason to stay at Crafted City when there were two inspectors.

Dark circles were under his eyes – he hadn't slept well since N had given him the amulet.

He'd tried tossing it into the forest. It had reappeared around his neck next time he'd slept. Now it was stuffed into his pocket.

Dully, he drifted in and out of sleepy consciousness throughout the meeting. Occasionally he'd mumble something, or flaring one of the torches, but the entirety of the meeting was just a blur to him. At some point Mitch had had enough and left the room, and shortly afterward Jordan had also given up and dismissed everyone. Seto left the room last, slowly dragging his legs throughout the room like an aimless zombie, ignoring the worried glances Jordan kept giving him.

He needed some air. He breathed out, hurrying to his room and grabbing a brown cloak. After putting it on and pulling the hood up to hopefully protect his face (not that it'd do much if anyone found Crafted Community) he rushed out of the hill, running into no-one as he stepped out and into fresh air.

Seto sighed happily as the sun, high in the sky, watched over him. Suddenly he heard footsteps on the grass; he dropped to the crouch, eyes alert, but then relaxed as a pig casually wandered into the clearing. The pig _oinked, _strutting over to the sorcerer, and Seto grinned, patting the animal on its head.

Because of the pig, he didn't react right away when he heard the second set of footsteps. It took him a moment to realize that another pig would not have footsteps that heavy. Seto leaped upwards, scaring the pig away as his eyes locked on a dark form at the edge of the clearing.

Rage overtook him, and before he realized it magic poured from his fingers, thick smoke colored red to reflect his anger. The smoke swelled, seemed to sharpen before it leapt at the familiar dark shape, wrapping around his form and jerking him into the clearing. Seto studied him for a moment before slamming him into a tall oak tree, hands trembling.

"You cursed me!" he accused as magical tendrils floated around N's calm form. The smoke shuddered, the red suddenly transformed into a muddy burgundy, before quickly dissipating. N dropped to the ground with a grunt, wiping himself off as if he was covered in dust.

"I have done no such thing," N replied coolly. Seto scowled, digging into his pocket and pulling the amulet free, slamming it into the ground at his feet.

"Nightmares," Seto snapped, clenching his fists. "All because of this. I can't even get rid of it!"

"Maybe there's a reason for that," N said coldly. Seto opened his mouth, and N snapped; suddenly if felt as if the sound was ripped from his throat, and Seto jerked backwards. "Listen, sorcerer," N growled, "I've come to offer a warning."

"Oh boy, thanks," Seto mumbled sarcastically.

N clenched his fists. "The police force in Crafted City are going crazy. They know you're around here, and it's only a matter of time-"

"We're leaving soon anyways," Seto interrupted – though he wasn't sure how true that was.

"Soon isn't good enough," N snapped. "I hate to say this, but there are important people in this group, even if they don't realize it – people important enough that I'd rather not see them hanged. You happen to be one of them, sorcerer."

"Yes, well-" Seto paused suddenly, muscles stiffening as he heard a dog bark – shortly followed by a variety of footsteps and multiple other dog growls.

Seto turned slightly, dropping into a crouch, and, warily, N strode over to the sorcerer. The sounds of a group approaching quickly became apparent.

"That's bad," N whispered.

"There are wards," Seto argued. "They should-"

"I _may _have... disabled them when arriving here," N muttered. Seto stared at him for a moment before swearing, standing suddenly and pushing his way into the trees.

"Sorcerer, where are you-"

"_Quiet,_" Seto hissed, holding up his hand. After a moment, he added, "Go. Now."

Seto crouched, eyes alert as he darted forward quietly. Weaving between the trees, he moved closer to the group. The sounds that drifted to him told him much – that there were multiple men at least, and a few dogs, too-

He passed another tree and peeked over a bush. About half a dozen men, each armored in navy-blue leather and spears, slowly wandered through the forest. Along with that was another man, lightly armored and holding four, scarlet leashes that restrained four, white-furred wolves.

_Wolves. _Seto gasped in surprise as he saw the large, snow-white canines, padding over the ground with noses low and teeth bared. These weren't normal police dogs, clearly – they were legitimate wolves that should have belonged in the wild. How – and _why –_ in the world did the police have such dangerous animals-?

Maybe to locate dangerous criminals that could be anywhere around Crafted City at the moment.

The wolves weren't very good at scent-tracking, apparently; even though Seto rested just a few feet from them, they were still oblivious to them. He wondered if the officers knew about their nose defects.

Seto took a deep breath, shifting behind a tree as the group finished passing. He had to act now – putting up more wards would take hours and by the time he got back to Crafted Community, told everyone about the officers, and got everyone to move, it was likely that the officers would have discovered them already.

However...

When the final officer's back began to disappear, he stumbled out of the trees, tripping over his own feet in an attempt to make it look accidental. He let out a small noise, and it worked; the last officer in line turned to look back at him. The two froze for a moment; Seto acted first, tendrils of red smoke flinging from his fingertips and towards the officer. The man's eyes widened as he yelled, dropping to a crouch. Seto paid him no more mind, turning and fleeing away from Crafted Community.

He heard the wolves behind him, pounding through the forest in quick pursuit. Adrenaline coursed through his body, and he ignored the pain flaring in his legs or the terror trying to overcome his mind and he surely ignored the voice in the back of his mind telling him how stupid this plan was.

Seto ran.

The wolves ran faster.

Breath being forced out in ragged gasps, Seto – making sure to get a clear view of what lay ahead of him – turned. A wolf was gaining on him, red leash still trailing behind it as it ran. He flicked his wrist, and a ball of smoke flung itself at the canine; the wolf ran towards it without a second thought, and then collided with it, as if the smoke were a solid substance. The wolf yelped, flipping onto the ground before growling and pulling itself up again.

Seto turned his gaze back to the path ahead of him, sweat cascading down his brow. He heard a savage growl, and at the last minute glanced to the left. A large wolf leaped at him, and he dug his feet into the soft dirt, sliding to a stop. The wolf turned to him, and he pushed with both of his hands, an overly large cloud of smoke slamming into the wolf and tossing it away.

Something slammed into his back, and Seto cried out, falling forwards. His face hit the dirt, and he struggled, kicking and twisting. His foot hit something, and a wolf yelped, leaping back. Seto rolled onto his back, ignoring the rocks and sticks digging into his back, when the wolf leaped back onto him. He yelled, a thick blob of black shoved its way into the wolves face, causing it to raise its jaws skywards and cough. He slammed up with his knee blindly, and the wolf howled, before he tossed it off of himself.

The fourth wolf came then, leaping at him, and he pushed backwards. His hand shot out but the wolf slammed into him before he could summon more of his magic, and he grunted, blindly slamming a fist into the wolf's snout. The wolf snarled as he dragged himself back, dashing towards him, eyes locked on his throat. Blindly he grabbed a rock nearby with a weak tendril of magic, tossing it, and the rock slammed into the wolf's nose. The wolf snarled, and then he spotted another of the wolves approaching once more.

He groaned, kicking the nearest wolf away and dragging himself to a sitting position. The two wolves, eyes red with bloodlust, began to circle him, and he gritted his teeth, pulling himself to shaky legs. The longer he waited, the closer the other two wolves could be, so he lashed out, thick fingers of smoke slamming into the wolf in front of him. He was getting weaker, he noted from the weak density of the smoke.

The wolf behind him snarled, leaping for him, when it was suddenly yanked out of the air. Seto turned in surprise, shock quickly turning to relief and then defeat when one of the officers emerged from the trees, spear on his back and ragged leash gripped in his hands. Officers converged upon him, grabbing the wolves; the officer before him yanked the wolf backwards, ignoring the canine's snarls, and handed him back to the animal handler, giving the man a glare and mumbling something Seto couldn't hear to the man.

Then he turned back to Seto, pulling his cap off his head and lazily wiping sweat off his bald head. "Hello there, sorcerer," he said. "I, Captain Mar, am here to take you to our mayor."

* * *

So apparently SOPA's back. For, like, the fourth time. Y'all should go do something about that if you haven't. See, I've done all that I can theoretically do, signing a petition and all. I deserve a medal.

shameless Twitter plug ho!


	8. Chapter Seven - Ally

**7. Ally**

Sky had to show the trident to Ryan.

So, at dawn the next day, Sky fed some excuse to Herobrine about one of Seth's jobs which he completely bought, and dragged Ryan off, back to where he saw the trident.

(In reality, Herobrine easily saw through the lie, which is why he sent a single creeper to follow the pair.)

Sky was silent through the journey, rebuking any of Ryan's attempts at conversation. His mind toiled with the decision – last time he'd checked, Taylor and Ryan hadn't parted ways on favorable terms. But if he was truly alive, and this wasn't some sick joke by Herobrine, he would be a great ally to the pair.

_Uh! _Sanglomore suddenly said from Sky's side. _Whoops, uh, uh, sorry boss Lord Herobrine issummoningmesorry!_

The sword leaped from his sheath at Sky's side and burst into flames. Sky and Ryan leaped backwards and the next moment the flame, and Sanglomore, were gone.

After that, the two remained silent but felt slightly shaken by the sword's sudden disappearance.

Soon Sky stopped nearby the clearing, turning to Ryan and making sure to block his view, whose face was lined with curiosity and slight annoyance.

"Ryan," Sky said slowly. Interrupting any sarcastic comment that could come from him, he hurried on, "This may be, uh, odd, but do you happen to remember Taylor?"

Silence.

"You know, King of Atlantis and all that." Sky wisely chose not to mention the occasion where Taylor wiped the floor with the former-prison-guard.

Ryan's lips thinned, his eyes flashing with distaste, and he muttered a simple, "Yes." Neither Sky nor Ryan liked talking about their time at Crafted Prison.

"What do you think happened to him?"

"I don't know or care," Ryan snapped. Then, after a moment, "Whatever happened to the rest of the prisoners, I assume."

"And," Sky said, fueling his flair for drama, "where do you think this came from?" He leaned to the side, allowing Ryan a clear view of the battered trident. Ryan's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the weapon.

"But..." Ryan stuttered. Ryan took a moment to compose his thoughts before continuing. "Okay, why, exactly, would he not try to directly contact us?"

Sky shrugged.

"Assuming that he's not with the rest of the prisoners, of course," Ryan continued. "Because I severely doubt that all of them would refrain from contacting you as well."

"Well," Sky began, right before the potion slammed into his back. Sky yelped, stumbling forward in surprise as a warm liquid ran down his back. Ryan yelled similarly, but Sky couldn't see him as his vision blurred and darkened. He swelled, unsteady on his feet, and planted his hands on his knees, gasping as he was suddenly out of breath. Bile rose from the back of his throat and Sky coughed, forcing it back down.

Faintly he heard a body slumping to the ground, but Sky discarded it as unimportant as he his vision went black.

Sky groaned as rope chafed against his wrist and he heard a laugh that could only be described as a "cackle." Wearily he opened his eyes; he was in a small wooden shack, tied to a fence against the wall, Ryan tied up similarly nearby and still asleep. Ahead of him, hunched over a brewing stand, was a form in a purple robe-

Oh, no.

His fears were confirmed when the figure stood and turned to him. She was a villager – at least, he assumed "she", as genders with villagers tended to be hard – though her skin was much paler than normal and her eyes were a muddy lavender. A pointed, black hat rested upon her head, and she wore purple and green robes, hands folded within them, along with brown trousers. A single wart rested upon her large nose and she wore a belt lined with various potions.

"Oh, you're awake!" she cackled as she turned back to the brewing stand, dumping a handful of gunpowder into the top of the brewing stand. It mixed with the water in the blaze rod center, evenly distributing it to each of the thick water bottles below to form some sort of potion.

Witches were outcast villagers – villagers that had an affinity for magic, even if they could not harness it themselves, and made a danger to themselves and others with dangerous brewing and amateur enchanting.

"Perfect," the witch muttered, turning back to Sky. She grinned, showering her broken, yellow teeth. "More live test subjects for my potions, see," she explained, and Sky's eyes widened as he tried to jerk his hands free. The witch shook her head, cackling again, and suddenly Ryan stirred, eyes fluttering open. He took a minute to adjust himself to the land of waking, but then he cried out in surprise and pulled at his binds too.

Suddenly, from the darkness of the ceiling, a low hiss and multiple scarlet eyes. The cave spider dropped from the ceiling, baring its mandibles at the two Minecrafters. The pair froze as the poisonous arachnid stalked back and forth between them, eyeing them hungrily.

"Oh, no, Caligula," the witch tutted. "Not quite. Maybe when they're blind, or crippled, but right now..."

"Hold!" The deep, strange voice filtered through the hut before the door was torn off its hinges. A man stepped through, wearing thick, heavy armor over everything but his face, which was set with hard lines of anger. Sanglomore was stuck in his hand, surprising Sky, but the odd thing was that the entire man was _blue. _Even Sanglomore was entirely blue, hilt and all, as if the man were a-

"My Lord," the man said as the spider leaped at him, and suddenly he was gone. The spider growled, glancing around in confusion before the real Sanglomore slammed into its abdomen, pinning it to the wall. Sky glanced away as bile rose in his mouth.

Herobrine leaped into the hut. The witch swore, fumbling at her waist for a splash potion and jerking it free. She tossed it at Herobrine, who skillfully grabbed it out of the air and slammed the weak glass bottle into the side of the witch's face. The witch stumbled, and then the god slammed his fist into her jaw, tossing her back and against the wall. Sanglomore pulled himself free from the now-empty wall, floating over and cutting the ropes at Sky's and Ryan's hands. Then the sword slid himself into his sheath, muttering angrily about poison and blood.

"Well," Herobrine said calmly, glancing at the Minecrafters. "For one thing, skeletons are bastards."

"What was that?" Sky asked suddenly. Herobrine raised an eyebrow, and Sky added, "The man who came in here before you. He disappeared, like a mirage or something, but he was able to knock down the door..."

"Oh, him," Herobrine said as if it were nothing. "That's just Arte."

"Arte?"

"One of the first wielders of Sanglomore," Herobrine informed him.

"Why was he here?"

"Oh, I summoned him," Herobrine said simply. Sky's eyes widened, and Herobrine continued, "Any wielder of Sanglomore – including myself – can summon all of the wielders – excluding myself."

"...All of them?" Sky asked. Ryan's eyes widened as he assumed what Sky was inquiring about.

"Everyone of them that is dead," the god said with a nod. "No matter how long they wielded Sanglomore – a second or a decade – if they used him in battle, you can summon them. Good job essentially selling your soul to me, by the way, Sky," he added.

A single thought overwhelmed Sky's mind at that moment, and it wasn't about the afterlife.

There was a single Sanglomore wielder that he had in mind, and he wasn't really sure why he wanted to summon the former inspector of Crafted Prison.

* * *

I was close to managing a double post yesterday, but no such luck :


	9. Chapter Eight - The Mayor

**8. The Mayor**

"So it sounds like to me," said Yowwen, "that you're an idiot."

Yowwen was the mayor's assistant. He was in his late-20s and had dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin and a pair of spectacles on his face. He held a leather-bound book in his lap, a table nearby sporting a bottle of ink and a quill clutched in his fingers. The sorcerer and assistant were sitting in Yowwen's personal office, with only Mar standing guard inside, and Seto was telling the assistant what he was doing in the forest leading up to his capture.

"Fabricating a story," was a more accurate term, however, considering most of what Seto said was a lie – the biggest of which being that he'd separated himself from Crafted Community rather quickly. He'd just finished the story, telling of how he'd been trying to get away from Crafted City and had accidentally stumbled across a group of officers patrolling the forest.

(When he'd first run out to distract the group, he'd not considered the possibility of multiple patrol groups. Now that fear chipped away at his mind.)

"Possibly," Seto murmured in reply to the man.

Yowwen shook his head, mumbling something to himself as he stood, closing the book and laying the quill down on the table. Book tucked under his arm, Yowwen gave a slight nod to the sorcerer and hurried out of the room, leaving Seto alone with Mar.

Mar stared stoically at the sorcerer from the door, hand on the hilt of his sword. Seto sighed, absentmindedly setting the cap back onto the inkpot. The wait dragged on, seconds seeming like hours. After what seemed like forever to Seto, the door opened again and Yowwen popped back inside.

"The mayor wishes to see you," Yowwen muttered, wandering over to his desk, the sorcerer mostly forgotten.

Seto staggered to his feet with pain-filled legs, taking note of Mar taking position behind him. He was much to fatigued to do any complicated magic work – maybe a small mirage, cheap parlor tricks at best. Seto sighed as Mar's iron grip wrapped around his forearm, directing him quickly and silently towards the mayor's office.

The mayor's office wasn't quite what Seto had expected. The walls were made of smooth stone, the floor a nice, dark oak wood. A single window sat opposite the door, and the mayor's desk, mostly barren except for (oddly) a chipped, ragged iron chestplate, rested near it. The walls were covered in weapons and shields, and occasionally portraits of fierce looking warriors. A suit of iron armor sat in the corner, clenched fists missing a weapon.

The mayor rose form his chair, nodding to Mar. He wore a long, black coat, down to his knees, black trousers, a black tunic with a strange, green symbol in the center, and black/white striped gloves and shoes. A black bandana was on his hand, with a strange white symbol. He had a bushy, brown beard, dark eyes, a large nose and a small scar almost completely hidden by his hair/bandana. An axe hung at his waist, hidden by the coat.

"Seto," the mayor said amiably, as if he knew the sorcerer. "Sit, please."

Silently, Seto settled himself in the chair in front of the mayor's desk. The mayor himself sat back in his own chair, quickly taking the armor piece and carelessly tossing it to the corner of the room, creating a loud clanging sound that Seto winced at hearing.

"So," the mayor said, leaning forward. "Hello, there. I'm the mayor of this city. You can call me Dan. And I'm also sure you're curious why you're here, and not in the hands of the two inspectors in this city."

Seto stayed silent.

"Two," Dan murmured, shaking his head. "You've got two inspectors dedicated to finding your group. I've never heard of that. Hell, most criminals are smart enough to not get one inspector following them. I _wonder _why they'd have such a special interest in your group?"

Seto, again, said nothing.

"Seto, you don't realize it, but I'm your best friend right now."

"How do you figure that?" Seto quipped suddenly.

Dan shook his head. "Tell me, Seto, how many police officers – including the ones that took you in – have seen you while you were being brought to me?"

Seto thought. Along with the ones that had shuttled him to the town hall, Seto had been seen probably no more than a dozen officers.

"And," Dan continued, "how many have interacted directly with you, hm? How many know exactly who you are, and how many of those have seen you brought here?"

Again, most likely no more than the half-dozen that had brought him here. Seto frowned in thought.

"And now, the question that you need the answer to, but don't have," Dan smirked. "How many of those officers are loyal to the inspectors rather than me? I'll give you a hint: none."

"What... What are you saying?" Seto asked finally. Dan gave a short chuckle.

"What am I saying?" Dan said, tilting his head. "Seto, I'm saying that I don't like the inspectors. Frankly, I hate them. They're corrupt bastards that have forced themselves into control of my police force."

"And you are telling me this because...?"

"Sorcerer, I want you to kill them."

Seto gasped slightly, dumbfounded, glancing back at Mar near the door, who stoically stared ahead. He turned back to Dan, who sat calmly in his chair, as if he had suggested a nice stroll on the beach.

"See," Dan continued, "if _I, _or anyone that could be linked to me, were to eliminate two inspectors, then the three others living would swarm on this city with armies. But..."

Seto stared at him, magic absentmindedly curling in his fingers.

"But if, say, a vengeful criminal happened to escape from captivity – one that who held no relation to Crafted Prison – and he just _happened _to kill a pair of inspectors in the city right now... Why, that might just cause some horrible consequence, like the Crafted Prison case going cold, and the rest of the inspectors vengefully targeting this previously mentioned criminal."

Dan locked eyes with Seto. "It's a simple trade, really. They die, you go free."

"And... if I refuse?" Seto inquired. He knew what the answer already was, but asked anyways, for curiosity.

Dan's hand went to his waist, grabbing the axe and pulling it free, then sliding it onto the desk. He grinned.

"I'd rather not discuss it. So, think hard, sorcerer – what's it going to be?"

Seto thought. Here, sitting calmly in front of him, was an out. If he did this, killed the inspectors, he and the rest of Crafted Community could just slip into some village and... live. Be free. All he had to do was kill two men and ruin the life of another (assuming Dan didn't betray him, of course.)

What else could he do, though? If he refused right here, it would be the axe for him, and he assumed the Crafted City police force would find the rest of his friends before they even noticed he was missing.

It was a good deal.

But Seto wasn't a murderer. He'd been in combat, sure, but he'd never actually ended the life of another Minecrafter. And now, this man expected him to assassinate a pair of important officials in the Minecraftian Police Force, and essentially sign another man's death warrant.

Seto was not a murderer. He was, however, a logical man.

"Tell me about them," Seto murmured quietly. "The inspectors."

"Made a decision, have we?" Dan said, flashing a grin.

"I've not decided anything. Tell me about the inspectors."

"Alright," Dan said slowly. "There are two in the city – obviously the ones I want gone. One is Sir Inspector Guude Boulderfist. He's renowned for his unnatural – and seemingly unmagical – strength in his, well, fists. His current partner is a man who calls himself Inspector Aviator. Bastard's arrogant, loud, annoying, and nimble as all hell. Together, they're a powerful mixture of speed and strength – partially why they were sent here."

Seto locked eyes with Dan, mind made up. He wasn't a murderer – but, as required, he was willing to become one.

"I'll do it," he said.

Mar gave Seto a wig and hood and smuggled him out of the city – only after Dan had promised that the forest and a certain entrance to the city would be manned only be men loyal to him, in an effort to ensure safety for Crafted Community while Seto tried to convince Mitch and Jordan to agree to stay in the forest.

That was another part of the deal, one he particularly disliked – Crafted Community was to remain in the forest. "Insurance," Dan had explained calmly, if Seto decided that he didn't want to do his job after the group had fled.

Seto's fears were confirmed – Dan had located Crafted Community when the sorcerer had been captured. No one in the group knew they'd been found, however.

Mar stopped a dozen yards away from the clearing where Crafted Community was. "Better for me not to be seen," he stated, "and I'd recommend you not tell too many people about your little deal." With that, the man stalked off.

Seto hurried through the trees, rushing into Crafted Community. He saw no one in the clearing, and thus rushed into the hollow-hill, cloak heavy on his shoulders. Seto slowed once inside, searching for one of the groups two leaders – quickly he found Jordan, who he'd actually hoped to talk to first. Out of both leaders of Crafted Community, Jordan seemed to be the more agreeable of the pair.

Jordan was in the dining hall, setting up each of the tables. He turned when he heard the sorcerer enter, an eyebrow quirking upwards.

"Geez, Seto, where'd you run off to?" Jordan inquired, as he continued to set the table with silverware (that was made of wood? Woodware? Something like that.)

"It's a, erm, long story," Seto mumbled. "One I kind of have to speak with you about."

Jordan paused, laying down his stack of plates and silverware(?). "Alright then," he said, sitting down in a chair, "tell me it."

Seto told it – everything, from distracting the officers to meeting with Dan to his deal – except, strangely, for his meeting with N. He seemed to pass right over that part of the tale without even thinking about it – thought, absentmindedly, his hand strayed to his pocket and felt the familiar gold of a certain amulet. Seto tried to subtly question if Jordan had seen anyone strange around, wording it vaguely so it sounded like he was inquiring about any police when he was truly curious about N, and Jordan replied that he had not seen anyone outside of Crafted Community.

Jordan took it all in silence. When Seto was done, he stared at the sorcerer before blurting, "Seto, you're an idiot."

Seto scowled. "I suppose you would've handled the situation better."

"Probably not," Jordan admitted. "Okay, fine. We're both idiots. Your idiocy, though, has put us either in a great or horrible position." Jordan sighed, putting his head in his hands. After a moment Jordan reached into his pocket and fished out a golden pocket watch, glancing at the time before sighing again.

"I'm half tempted to try and use this as excuse to flee from here," a stab of icy fear rose in Seto's chest, "but I know that fleeing-"

"-Won't be-"

"-an option, yes," Jordan finished unhappily. "Go rest, Seto. I'll talk this over with Mitch," he grimaced at the notion, "and we'll all figure out something from there, I suppose."

Jordan waved a hand, and Seto nodded slightly, lazily strolling to his room. Once he opened the door he took the cloak off of himself, folding it up and tossing it under the bed, straightening quickly when something caught his eye.

"Not this again," Seto murmured darkly. He let out a small puff of magic, lighting the candle on the desk near his bed and illuminating the room. There, stuck in the wooden floor in the corner, was a dagger, the hilt a fancily-dyed purple. He grabbed the dagger, pulling it free from the ground, examining the smooth iron and glancing back to where it was. There, carved into the ground, was a message:

_Leave. ~N_

Not in the mood for N at the moment, Seto, without thinking about it, slid into his bed, the amulet in his pocket and gripping the dagger under his pillow without realizing it.

That night, he had no nightmares.

* * *

YouTubers introduced this chapter: Mayor Dan (CaveManFilms)


	10. Chapter Nine - Reunion

**9. Reunion**

"Sky, listen to me-"

"Herobrine, I don't care. This is something I need to do; you wouldn't understand."

"..."

"It's nothing to do with your hostile-takeover mission, if it helps."

"...Fine, fine, go ahead."

Sky stalked out of the clearing, Sanglomore balanced in his hand easily. The moon was up high, and as such Ryan was asleep; Herobrine went back to directing his groups of miner-zombies in their mission. Sky didn't care – he spent about five minutes finding another small clearing, secluded from road or village view.

Sky raised Sanglomore high and slammed him into the ground, blade-down, the sword easily sinking through soft grass and into the dirt.

_You sure 'bout this, boss?_

"Yes," whispered Sky. "Summon Xephos."

Power surged through the sword, a magical wave like a waterfall, and Sky leaped backwards, goosebumps rising on his skin. The runes on the sword glowed brightly, the dark clearing becoming light from the sword. Light mist began to pool around the blade, slowly solidifying into a hand, and then a blueish form that staggered into existence. The man's consciousness rushed back to him, and the spirit staggered away from the blade, his ghost-impression of Sanglomore fading back into mist as he gasped, hurriedly looking around.

"Oh, hello, Sky," Xephos murmured, straightening. "You know, the Aether isn't quite all it's cracked up to be." Despite his calm demeanor, Sky could hear a line of unnerve in his voice.

"You betrayed me," were the first words out of Sky's mouth, laced with accusation.

"Well, no, I was kind of doing my job, you know," Xephos said calmly with a shrug. "I'm an- I _was _an Inspector of the Law, you were escaping prisoners, so I simply-"

"That's not what I'm talking about."

Xephos scowled, waving his hand, and a phantom version of Sanglomore appeared in his hands. "Are you talking about this?" he asked, tossing it away and letting the image disperse.

"Yes."

Xephos sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against a tree. "Come now. We already talked about this, did we not-?"

"No. I was, you know, imprisoned before we got the chance."

"...Right."

Sky began to pace, back and forth through the clearing, eyes locked on Xephos's ghostly form.

"You-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Xephos cut him off, sighing and shaking his head. "I left you to die in a dark tomb filled with undead, yes?"

"You seem rather calm," growled Sky.

"Well, yes, I'm sure you'd like to make it out to be some very dramatic event-"

"You left me to die!" Sky shouted, rage filling his eyes. "You trapped me in a tomb filled with mobs while I was wounded and left!"

_Uh, boss, _Sanglomore said quietly. Sky ignored him.

"Your point?"

Sky stalked over to the spirit, clenching his fists, angered by his nonchalance. "Are you not even guilty in the slightest?"

Xephos shrugged. "You survived, I got Sanglomore. I think everything worked out rather well."

"You still abandoned me!"

"I did," the inspector said. "And-"

"Sky!"

Ryan burst from the trees, staff in his hands and eyes wide with worry. Xephos raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," he commented lightly. "You."

Ryan ignored him. "Sky, there's a bit of a problem and we need to deal with it. Like, now."

Sky mumbled something under his breath, pulling Sanglomore from the ground and dismissing Xephos, who faded into mist. After that, he followed the panicky Ryan in the direction of Luthan.

"When, uh, when did this happen?" Sky whispered in curiosity as he eyed the large bandit group occupying Luthan.

"When you were having your heart-to-heart with the inspector," Ryan commented drily. "I only know they're there because a pair of them came wandering near our clearing. Thankfully the mobs drove them off – they're good for something at least."

The most sorrowful part of staring at them were the bodies – leathered bodies of the guards from Luthan, piled outside haphazardly, rotting. The smell wafted towards Sky, and he grimaced – what were they trying to do, attract zombies? Idiots.

The bandits ambled around the town, drunken, clad in leather – and occasionally chain-mail – armor, weapons at their waists. A few were sober – each of them had bows – loitering at the outskirts of the town, bored, apparently setup as sentries. They weren't very good at their jobs – a dozen yards away, Sky and Ryan crouched in a bush, frowning as they stared at the town.

At least Seth wasn't in the pile of bodies.

"So," Sky wondered, "what are we going to do?"  
"Well, what else?" Ryan grinned. "We retake the village, of course. I even have a plan! A pretty stupid one, I'll admit, but a plan's a plan."

* * *

Sorry for a short chapter. Inspiration and time have abandoned me. Oh well. Either way, Act I is coming close to its closing point, and there will be a short break between Acts where I can plan stuff better than I have and hopefully start updating on a more consistent basis.

YouTubers introduced this chapter: Xephos (BlueXephos of the Yogscast)


	11. Chapter Ten - Chance

**10. Chance**

Mitch came to the same conclusion as Jordan - "Notch, Seto, you _are _an idiot!"

They were in the conference room – Seto and Jordan tensely listening in chairs as Mitch paced around the room near the doorway, stress and anger written across his face. His bow was across his back – Seto didn't quite know why.

"So we're being hunted by the law," Mitch growled, waving his hands around for emphasis. "And so you go ahead – without consulting us, of course! - and make a deal with the head of the law!"

"Well, I didn't really have a chance to consult you," Seto murmured. Mitch didn't hear him.

"And I'm sure he's definitely a trustworthy guy! I mean, he definitely won't just execute us all as soon as you're done – and now we're stuck here, too!"

Seto's fingers curled on the table. The torches flared, room glowing bright, and Jordan shielded his eyes. "Mitch..."

"No!" Mitch turned, eyes narrow, slamming his fists into the table and staring straight into the sorcerer's eyes without fear. "I'm done being afraid of you because you can fling smoke from your fingers. No more."

"Mitch," Jordan murmured quietly, glancing between the Canadian and sorcerer. The air in the room was thick with tension, and Seto legitimately worried that Mitch would try to grab for his bow.

There was a knock at the door. The tension shattered as Mitch shook his head, glancing downwards as he hurried over to it.

"Uh," said Bashur awkwardly, clearly having looked in from the door slot. "Am I, uh, interrupting anything?"

"What is it, Bashur?"

"There's an, erm, man outside," the melon man said quietly. They hadn't told anyone of the deal yet; Mitch nodded, waving him away and stalking off with a disgusted murmur towards Seto. Seto cast a final glance at Jordan before standing and hurriedly rushing towards the entrance to their hill, grabbing his brown cloak and donning it in the process.

It was Mar, of course, though he was dressed oddly – instead of his officer uniform, he wore dark clothes, a cloak and a mask covering the lower half of his face, his entire body covered except the upper portion of his face. Only his voice when he spoke tipped Seto off to his identity.

"Seto," he said quietly, nodding once, hand twitching towards the sword at his waist absentmindedly.

"Why are you dressed like that?" blurted Seto suddenly.

"I'm a criminal, see," Mar explained optimistically. Seto raised an eyebrow. "A criminal showing up here is less suspicious than an officer, don't you agree?"

"Dark clothes and a covered face doesn't make you a criminal."

"It doesn't do anything to disspell the idea of you being a criminal, though," Mar retorted. Seto shrugged, and Mar slung a bag off his back, handing it to the sorcerer. Seto took it warily, opening it up and unfolding the cloth covering the contents to reveal a crossbow and a bag of bolts. There was also a small bag under the weapon, which Seto quickly checked and found to be filled with gold coins. Seto's lip curled in distaste, but still he slung the bag over his back.

"You should take these, too," Mar murmured, reaching into his own pack and pulling out a pair of portraits. He handed them to Seto, and the sorcerer looked over them – portraits of Inspector Guude, and who he assumed was Inspector Aviator.

"Why are you here, anyways?" Seto asked, stowing the portraits into his bag.

"To make sure you get into the city safely, of course," Mar replied easily. Seto ignored him when he placed his hand at the hilt of his sword.

The trip into Crafted City was silent and uneventful – the pair were greeted at one of the city's gates, one of the guards making a comment about Seto and quickly being silenced by Mar's glare. Mar led him to the guardhouse, giving Seto a black wig and a pair of contacts to make his eyes look green. After that, Seto left them, calmly striding towards the police station. Once it came into his view he stopped, pulling himself to the edge of the sidewalk and pondering.

He stood on the tips of his toes, peering over the heads of the Minecrafters passing by and past the carriages, searching for... An inn. That was something he could use.

Quickly Seto crossed the street, passing between a pair of carriages and melting back into the crowd. He took special care to not draw any special attention to himself, ducking his head and acting as small as he could.

Soon he slipped into the inn, which was relatively empty, considering it was a bit before noon. (Seto suddenly wished he'd thought to bring a watch.) Only a single man, resting in the corner with a thick book that didn't glance at him, and the bartender, who gave a short nod to the sorcerer before ducking through a door.

He sat near a window that allowed him to watch the police station. It wasn't a perfect view – the entrance to the station was constantly blocked by people passing by – but it was the best idea he had without looking suspicious.

Speaking of suspicious, he wished he'd brought a book or something. Seto sighed, drumming his fingers on the table, and he played the waiting game.

He didn't know how long it took – approximately thirty minutes, if he had to guess – but soon a man exited the station, catching his interest. Short brown hair, pale skin, short-sleeved black shirt and navy trousers, a pair of black wristbands and sunglasses on his face, the man matched Inspector Aviator's portrait perfectly.

Seto slipped out of the inn, garnering no comment from the book-reader or the bartender that had been moving back into the main room. The sorcerer slipped into the crowd, walking quickly and with a purpose, and quickly he spotted Aviator walking calmly with the crowd, hands stuffed into his pockets. Eying the sword at his waist warily, Seto trailed him, making sure to not stray too close to him and keeping out of his sight.

Eventually, Aviator slipped into a building and Seto paused, too wary to slip inside after him. He glanced around for a moment; suddenly he spotted something.

The building he'd first met N in. As far as he knew, it was abandoned, and so he hurried towards it. He got to the door; it was locked, but with a quick puff of magic he was inside, shutting the door behind him. He glanced around hurriedly, spotting a ladder and climbing it quickly. He sent a few papers spiraling into the dark air of the room, and he hurried over to the least boarded-up window, peering out of it. He had a vague vantage point into the building itself, seeing a bustling crowd, but he had a clear view of the entrance.

So, he bunkered down, slinging the bag to the side and watching the building. People slipped in and out, and, after a while, Aviator slipped out, melting into the crowd. Realizing his opportunity, the longer version of the waiting game began.

He returned to the abandoned building the next day, carrying a watch, and again, at roughly noon, Aviator slipped inside. He'd stay in there for about forty minutes and then leave, melting back into the crowd and returning back to the police station. From what he could tell it was some tavern of some sort.

On the third day, interestingly, Guude followed Aviator into the tavern. Seto considered shooting then, but couldn't find a clear line of sight, and the next day Guude didn't follow.

Seto also raised a question of his own – he didn't doubt the skills of the Inspectors, and was curious as to how he would manage to kill both of them. Maybe he didn't need to.

So on the seventh day, when Guude finally accompanied Aviator again – a full week after the deal was made, a week filled with Mar questioning when he'd finally do it – Seto peered out the window, crossbow loaded, angled towards the tavern entrance. Guude stalked inside the tavern quietly, but Aviator paused to talk to someone.

Magic swelling in his body, adjusting the wind and sharpening his eyes, Seto exhaled and fired.

* * *

I guess Inspector Aviator (AviatorGaming) is _technically _introduced this chapter, so there's that.

Also - once more - shameless Twitter plug, yeah. You can find the link on my profile.


	12. Chapter Eleven - Luthan, Reprise

**11. Luthan, Reprise**

"And who do you think you are?" sneered the bandit leader, a man that had been referred to as "Gethin." "Steve? Kill 'im, boys."

Herobrine, wielding a bloody iron sword, a trail of bodies in his wake (brown contacts in, of course) grinned cruelly as the bandits swarmed around him. Valdis – the second in command of the large group – stalked forward in the lead, a pair of swords in his hands.

And it _was _a large group, as if multiple bandit groups had merged together to attack Luthan. Wonder why, Sky thought sarcastically.

Sky shifted his position in the horse stables that were located near the edge of the town, watching the scene uncomfortably. The majority of the town's inhabitants were herded into a few buildings and guarded, though Seth himself and a few other warriors – some wounded badly – were being watched over by Gethin and a small group. Sanglomore had opted to accompany Sky – though the blade was sheathed, as sneaking in the dark with a bright blue blade was not a smart plan.

He couldn't see Ryan, who was supposedly sneaking towards the group of warriors, knocking out any of the bandit sentries on his way. Sky tried his best to ignore the corpse he'd stashed in one of the empty stables (and made sure to remember to remind Seth about it, once the bandits were cleared, or else someone would run into a nasty surprise.)

A brown horse snorted in boredom, watching Sky with disinterest.

Herobrine was faring rather well with the bandits, dodging their strikes and striking them down, although his lack of godly abilities handicapped him. He focused solely on defense, only stabbing at enemies in a rare parry, and he had to keep circling, making sure his back was safe.

Sky gritted his teeth as one of the bandits got a lucky strike, scoring a light hit down Herobrine's arm. The god kept silent, sweat sliding down his brow, showcasing an amazing amount of agility as he dodged between the bandits.

Suddenly Sky wondered when he'd started to worry about what happened to the god. Frankly, if the god was slain in the group of bandits, a lot of their problems would be solved. And-

Ryan burst from the shadows, arcing towards the group of warriors being watched by the bandits. His staff flashed forward, catching a pair of bandits off guard, and the pair collapsed to the ground. Ryan dug at his waist, dropping his dagger at Seth's feet to allow him to cut his bindings, and launched himself at the other bandit-guards.

Sky shifted to his feet, sticking to the darkness of the stables as he unsheathed Sanglomore. Already the blade could smell the air, taste the upcoming battle, and the sword's excitement caused his adrenaline to spike.

Bandits swarmed Ryan and Seth – who had grabbed a sword from one of the downed bandits – and Sky burst from the stables, sweeping a long line of flame at the bandits. He ignored the screams as they flailed around, cutting down any of the bandits that came into the path, and chaos ensued. A leather-clad Luthan warrior dashed past, cutting down a bandit, and Ryan leaped over his head, landing on the shoulders of a bandit.

Valdis leaped for him, and Sky danced backwards, avoiding the flurry of blades as the man twirled towards him. A quick flick of the wrist and a ball of flame sent the bandit into the side of a building, and Sky turned-

"Halt!"

Gethin's voice and the crackle of flames caused Sky to freeze. Gethin stood, axe in one hand, lit torch in the other, flames licking at a building. Sky's eyes widened, but the building was empty – the same could not be said for the next building Gethin held the torch over.

"Put down your weapons," the bandit leader threatened, "or I will burn every one of the villagers in here."

There was a short pause as Sky slowly began to lower his sword, and then a massive arm slammed into Gethin's head.

An iron golem lumbered into view, slamming one of its fists into another bandit's ribcage. Its iron body gleamed, clearly new, and its blood-red eyes roved over the bandits. An arrow pinged off its chest suddenly, and the golem leaped into action, smashing into a clump of bandits.

"You're welcome," Herobrine commented lightly as he sheathed his sword nonchalantly.

"When did you have time to make _that_?" Sky questioned, gaping.

"I've been busy."

"Why's it only here now?" Ryan added, an eyebrow raised.

"They're rather slow."

The battle was practically over – all of the still living bandits had either fled the town or were gathered up by the handful of warriors from Luthan. Seth was guiding over the newly-acquired prisoners, instructing the small amount of Luthan warriors to quickly tie the bandits up, and then, handing his sword off to someone else, wandered over to Ryan, Sky and Herobrine.

"Well, now," Seth said, face neutral. "It looks like I owe you three some thanks-"

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Seth looked away at the voice, eyes widening, and he said, "_Oh thank Notch, Gizzy, you're back!"_

* * *

Valdis and Gethin the bandits are both original characters, not YouTubers. Gizzy (Gizzy14Gazza) is, though.


	13. Chapter Twelve - Aftermath

**12. Aftermath**

The crossbow bolt slammed into the wooden window frame, half of it sticking out into the air. Out near the tavern, Aviator stepped inside, unharmed.

Seto's fingers stiffened, and he tossed the crossbow into his bag. After a moment, he jerked the bolt free from the window frame, too, using magic to assist him, dumping that carelessly into his bag, too. Turning the crossbow away at the last second had been an idea of pure instinct – suddenly he felt an overwhelming shame.

He slung his bag back onto his back – he'd have to work out something with Dan or, more likely, have to get Crafted Community and escape from Crafted City.

"Couldn't do it, eh?"

His hands flung up to his face, magic curling in his fingers as he swiveled, then falling back into rest when he saw it was only N. A thought came to him – this was where they'd first met, so could it possibly be his home (that he'd been intruding upon for the past week?) The thought had never occurred to him.

Twirling in his hands casually was a certain purple-hilted dagger. "You haven't taken my advice, I see," N said quietly.

"I haven't been able to," Seto replied. N shrugged, lazily tossing the dagger towards Seto, and the sorcerer caught it with his magic, quickly tossing it into his bag. He turned to hurriedly leave before a hand grabbed his arm.

"Sorcerer," N hissed in his ear vehemently. "You are setting yourself up for disaster. Leave."

"Thanks for the advice," Seto muttered sarcastically, pulling away.

Stalking out, he didn't notice N disappearing into the shadows.

Thunder rolled overhead, and Seto saw the shadow in the corner stand upright.

He leaped from the bed, magic curling around his arms and sweat sticking heavily to his body. He took a second to realize he was awake, not in a nightmare, and that both the amulet and the dagger were not under his pillows. His hands curled into fists, and with a quick flick of the wrist the torch on the wall lit bright.

"Sorcerer," N said calmly, pacing lightly, twirling the dagger in his hands once more. "You grate on my nerves."

"What the hell-" N dug the amulet out of his pocket, tossing it lightly towards Seto; the sorcerer caught it quickly by instinct, grimacing as he laid it on his desk.

"You ignore my warnings," he said. N halted his pacing, standing straighter than he ever had before, the dagger clutched tightly in his grasp.

"I can't!" Seto growled.

"You make idiotic deals that you can't follow through with," N continued, completely ignoring the sorcerer. "And now, you've run out of time."

"What are you talking about?" Seto said slowly, magic pooling in wariness.

N raised a black-gloved hand and lavender smoke began pouring from his trenchcoat sleeve. It curled around his hand and then refined itself, sharpened, dozens of violet sparkles shifting at the tips of his fingers.

Then he flung it. Seto raised his arms, his smoke curling out in front of him; N's magic slammed right through it, smacking into the sorcerer and tossing him. Seto opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out as he slammed into the wall, sliding onto his bed.

N stalked forward. Seto rose to unsteady feet, and N slammed the dagger into his desk, sticking it there as suddenly his trenchcoat, fedora and beard all disappeared into light smoke, and the man leaned backwards, crossing his arms.

"My name is Inspector Rythian," he said, "and you, sorcerer, have ruined two minutes until the police arrive. I'd hurry, if I were you."

And then he disappeared, leaving only a waft of violet smoke drifting upwards.

Seto hurried.

* * *

YouTubers introduced this chapter: Inspector Rythian (Rythian of the Yogscast)


	14. Chapter Thirteen - Ultimatum, Part I

**13. Ultimatum, Part I**

"_Hero!_" Sky whispered furiously, inching closer to the surprise god. "_You said he was dead!_"

"I said no such thing!" replied Herobrine. "I said he 'may have met an unfortunate accident!'"

Gizzy was a short man, with a head full of drooping, black hair and a thick, black mustache. His skin was pale, eyes a narrow gray, and he wore a gray coat and black trousers, along with a thin saber at his waist. His face was screwed into one of distaste, nose wrinkling at the smell of bodies around him.

Sky, Ryan and Herobrine crowded near each other. This ruined all of their plans.

"Seth," Gizzy mumbled, glancing around the village. "What the hell did I miss?"

"Where have you _been_?" Seth demanded angrily.

Gizzy shrugged. "I've been busy. Lots of mobs have tried to kill me." When Seth opened his mouth to say something next, Gizzy interrupted, "I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions. What, exactly, have I missed?"

"Oh, uh," Seth coughed, averting his gaze. "Uh, bandit invasion."

"Bandit invasion," Gizzy responded flatly.

"We fixed it, though!"

"You fixed it."

"Yeah!" Seth gestured to Sky, Herobrine and Ryan. Gizzy glanced at them, then did a short double take, eyes narrowing. He stalked towards them, Seth trailing behind wordlessly.

"You," he said, jabbing a finger at Sky and completely ignoring Herobrine and Ryan. "Who are you?"

"Well," Sky began slowly, cautiously, looking down at the man. "I'm known as Sky."

"Also known as the Infamous Inspector?" Gizzy asked.

Sky instantly failed any lies he may have tried to make; he took a step backwards in surprise, eyes widening in surprise.

"I figured," Gizzy said, straightening, hand straying to his sword. Seth stood behind him in silent shock. "Well, Infamous Inspector, you're under arrest-"

He was cut off when Herobrine's fist slammed into his temple. Gizzy trailed off suddenly, letting out a pained wheeze before collapsing, unconscious.

"Well, you two," Herobrine said calmly, even as some of the warriors of Luthan began to advance on the trio. "I'd say you've failed. It was a good try, really," he continued, wrapping his hands around the collars of the two Minecrafters, "but, well, you've forced me onto Plan B."

He teleported, then, with the three of them, all of them dispersing into a thick cloud of smoke that made the people around it cough and sputter. He took them to their base in the woods, dropping the two Minecrafters just outside their sleeping place. He stepped back; mobs leered at the edges of the clearing, zombies and creepers and spiders, each of them understanding what Plan B entailed.

"T-then what's Plan B?" Sky stuttered, head dizzy from Herobrine's teleport. He gasped, pushing himself to unsteady feet.

_Oh, boss, _Sanglomore murmured, _you really don't want to know-_

"You know what Plan B is," Herobrine growled. "Sorry, but Luthan is to be nothing but rubble an hour from now."

"I won't let you do that," Sky growled, hand straying to Sanglomore. Hesitantly, Ryan gripped his stiff as well, eyeing the mobs watching them.

"I really, honestly don't care what you 'won't let me do,'" Herobrine said calmly. Sky drew Sanglomore, angling the blade's point towards the god, and then the sword was back in his sheath, having moved of seemingly his own will. "You, uh," Herobrine muttered, "you want to try that again?"

Sky scowled as the mobs chorused their amusement.

"You won't get away with this," Ryan murmured quietly. Herobrine laughed.

"Really now? And who's to stop me, hm?" When Ryan opened his mouth to respond, Herobrine interrupted him, saying, "Do you believe Notch will try and stop me? Honestly, truly believe that? Because if you do, you're a fool. Notch doesn't care about the Overworld, and he's much too afraid of me to try anything."

Herobrine turned away, moving to leave and, without thinking, Sky sprang forward. He grabbed Herobrine's wrist, pulling him back, and when the god stumbled in surprise, he slammed his fist into the god's jaw.

Herobrine reeled out of Sky's grasp, eyes wide more with surprise than pain. The mobs surrounding them growled in fury; Sky saw them advancing upon him when Herobrine raised his hand, halting their advances. Sky turned, jumping slightly when he noticed a giant, black spider just a foot away from him, mandibles grinding wildly as it stared up at the Minecrafter venomously. Slowly, the spider retreated, slinking back into the darkness.

"I've come to a conclusion about you, Sky," Herobrine murmured, rubbing his jaw absentmindedly. "Either you are incredibly brave, or incredibly foolish and, frankly, I'm more willing to be money on the latter being true. Honestly, Ryan, how is this Minecrafter still alive?"

"No clue," Ryan replied with honesty. Sky cast a glare at him, and Ryan shrugged, murmuring something about "wanting to survive the night."

"Why, Herobrine?" Sky asked suddenly, staring into the god's empty eyes. "You don't have to destroy an entire town just for their supposed secret obsidian stash!"

"Well, yes, that was what you were for," Herobrine replied, raising an eyebrow. "And, as far as I see, you've _failed. _So-"

"Then try something else!" Sky said, his frustration clear in his voice.

"Too late, Sky," Herobrine said calmly, shrugging. Sky opened his mouth to form a question; Herobrine shushed him, clapping a hand. A trio of zombies came into the clearing, dragging a rickety wooden cart behind them with a thick, white blanket over-top it.

"Tell me, you two," the god said calmly, reaching into the cart. He pulled something out, tossing it carelessly to the ground – a large skull, charred horribly black, and then another to follow it. Finally a massive stone sword, most likely to heavy for Sky to carry, something that Herobrine balanced in one hand easily. "Do these look familiar?" He let the sword droop for a moment, letting the blade loosely brush against some grass, which instantly began to curdle and burn. He raised it back up, tossing it back onto the cart, cursing as he tossed the skulls back in too.

"See, in your view, I'm evil and the Wither is evil. However," Herobrine motioned for the zombies to take the cart away, "while I'm content for simple things, like ruling the Overworld and making my brother pay, the Wither wants to _destroy. _It wants everything – Overworld, Nether, Aether, End, all of it – to be a wasteland. It's funny, now you're trying to prevent me from _saving _your realm."

"You don't need to destroy a town to do that," Sky replied angrily. "The end doesn't justify the means! Just-just find the Wither's portal and go through that!"

"And run my mob army straight into a blatant trap and be defeated, yes, brilliant plan, Sky," Herobrine said, scowling. "Come now, Sky, personally I like to think I'm not so evil."

"_Personally,_" Sky snapped, "it sounds like you're stuck on some petty revenge scheme to get back at Notch for something, and you're willing to kill innocent people to do that."

"Petty," Herobrine muttered, glaring suddenly at the Minecrafter. "Petty? Yes, of course, I'm petty. I'm the Lord of the Nether, of course, I'm nothing but pure evil! Of course, _maybe _it's the opposite – _maybe _I'm tired of being called a demon! _Maybe _I'm tired of being shunned as the embodiment of evil while my brother is worshiped! _Maybe _I'm tired of being a figure to scare children into behaving! _Maybe I'm doing this because my brother is a god-damn bastard!_"

Herobrine paused, shaking slightly, to regain his composure. Sky and Ryan stayed silent, though the Minecrafters subconsciously took a step away from him.

"Now, Sky, Ryan," Herobrine said calmly, "I'll clue you into a little secret. This realm – the Overworld?" He pointed downwards, just to remind them what the realm was if they'd forgotten. "You _Minecrafters? _Life as you know it? Notch didn't create that. Jeb and I did."

"You're a liar," Ryan said automatically, though the god was a rather good one, apparently.

"I figured you'd say that," Herobrine shrugged. "But, truthfully, when the realms didn't exist – when it was just us three, in the Aether, Notch was the only one of us who didn't want to create other forms of life. He didn't want the Overworld, because he was afraid that someday we'd all accidentally create life that would be more powerful than us. Jeb and I didn't care. We made you, anyways – why do you think the First Minecrafter looks just like me? I wasn't modeled after him – he was modeled after me. The End and the Nether are our punishments," he whispered bitterly.

"You're lying," Ryan said stubbornly. Sky stayed silent.

Herobrine straightened suddenly, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. When I've retaken the Nether, I'll set the two of you free. But until then..."

Herobrine sprang forward suddenly, fist slamming into Ryan's head. Ryan crumpled; the god turned and leaped towards Sky. The Minecrafter rolled out of the way at the last second, freeing Sanglomore and swinging at the god. Herobrine ducked under the sword, not bothering to command it as he kicked Sky's shin and, when the Minecrafter teetered in surprise, smashing his fist into Sky's temple, letting the Minecrafter drop without another word.

"Well now, this seems very déjà vu-ish," said the witch as she absentmindedly watched her potions brew.

Sky struggled, trying to pull his hands free from the rope binding his hands. Ryan sat next to him, awake and still, hands bound above his head like Sky. They were in the witch's shack – the same witch they'd met before, in a small shack in the middle of a shallow lake in a swamp.

There was a loud sound as something moved through the water, and the red eye of an iron golem peered into the shack and, satisfied that the two Minecrafters were still restrained, move back into its patrol.

"It does," Ryan admitted, attempting to shrug. "You don't have a poisonous spider this time, do you?"

"Venomous," Sky quietly corrected as he continued to struggle.

"No, your boss sort of killed him," the witch said sadly. "Ah, poor Caligula, rest her soul... And this time I can't even test my potions on you!" The witch scowled. "Well, not with obvious effect, anyways... I'm sure he won't mind if you go blind-"

The shack shook, and there was a short growl of frustration from a golem as something quickly splashed around it. Then the splashing paused.

"Ah, Nether," the witch mumbled angrily, "this was _really _short-lived."

The door burst open, and a trail of flame slammed into the witch, shoving her against the wall as her robes caught fire. The spectral form of Xephos, wielding the actual Sanglomore, stepped towards the two bound Minecrafters, quickly cutting the ropes binding them. The shack shook suddenly, tossing them around a bit.

"Xephos?" Sky asked in surprise, amid the shaking.

"Just to make you quit being mad about the tomb-incident," Xephos replied as the shaking stopped, sighing in relief. Then suddenly he straightened, eyes widening, and said, "Oh no, it seems I've been stabbed." Then he dissolved into mist, the sword clattering to the ground as the witch, flames curling harmlessly around her body, raised her curved knife and stabbed at Sky.

Sky rolled to the side, fumbling for Sanglomore and swinging up. The witch danced back, cackling, before she paused and fell. Ryan dropped the brewing stand, grabbing the knife from the floor as the shack began to shake again and creak dangerously.

"C'mon," Ryan growled. He leaped out of the empty doorway as the wooden supports of the shack cracked, and Sky, after a moment of hesitation, leaped out after him. The shack was shoved off of its supports by two iron golems, slamming into the shallow water, and the pair of golems turned towards the Minecrafters.

"Sky," Ryan said slowly as the golems advanced on them, surprisingly quickly (Herobrine's "they're slow" excuse didn't hold much water.) "Go to Luthan."

"What?" Sky said in surprise as the first golem crashed into them. Sky leaped to the side, rolling upwards in the water, and looked to see the golem stiffen and stagger in pain as Ryan jerked the knife free from its eye. He leaped off its shoulders, into the other one, sliding behind its back. The golem stiffened, falling downwards as its knee couldn't move due to the knife stuck in it. Ryan pulled the knife free as the golem began to stand again, and the now one-eyed golem dashed towards him.

"_Sky, go!_" Ryan growled, dodging the golems some more.

"But-"

"No buts, no time for this," Ryan growled, rolling under a fist. "I am-" an annoyed grunt of exertion "-not in the mood for your 'valiant hero' excuse. What's important right now is that you _get to Luthan and stop Herobrine as soon as possible. GO!"_

After one more final moment of hesitation, Sky and Sanglomore turned and ran towards Luthan.


	15. Chapter Fourteen - Ultimatum, Part II

**14. Ultimatum, Part II**

Herobrine, Lord of the Nether, grimaced as he glanced at Luthan, his army of mobs shuffling behind him nervously.

Army was a bit of an overstatement. Honestly, it was just a collection of mobs that had come to see him – the mobs that were already there, and those that could be convinced that their leader had returned to the Overworld at last. His real, true army was in the Nether – but that had been defeated soundly by the Wither and, as far as he knew, the remnants were (hopefully) hidden.

"Remember, now," he said, repeating his instruction to all the mobs one more time, "when the watchtower goes up in flames, you siege."

The mobs loudly chorused their agreement.

He dispersed into smoke then, a few small wisps that quickly floated towards the watchtower. Seth was in it now, with another two men, each wearing swords; one of them had a blood-stained bandages wrapped around his upper arm, and he sat casually against the wall.

Herobrine reformed in the middle of their group, in full iron armor and an iron sword in his grasp. Seth and the other warrior didn't notice at first; the wounded man jumped up to his feet, screaming, before the sword in his throat silenced him.

He jerked the bloody blade free, tossing the corpse at the other warrior. The warrior went down with the body, screaming, while Seth leaped towards the god, sword free. The two clashed, trading blows before Seth's blade slipped through the god's defense and went arcing towards his neck. He turned into smoke again, shoving himself into Seth's face and causing the Minecrafter to stagger back and cough violently. Herobrine reformed quickly, slamming his fist into Seth's gut and pulling his sword away from him, burying it into the wooden floor.

Herobrine rushed over to the other living warrior, who had just staggered to his feet, and with a clean swipe decapitated the Minecrafter.

He turned back towards Seth, sheathing his blade and stalking towards the Minecrafter who was slowly pushing himself to his feet. Herobrine scowled, willing his eyes to blaze brightly, and he grabbed the Minecrafter by the collar, tossing him towards the wooden railing.

Seth screamed, slamming into the railing, and then Herobrine was holding him up and over it. Seth's cap fell from his head, and casually Herobrine grabbed it, dropping it back inside the watchtower.

"Now, Minecrafter," Herobrine said calmly, "you have obsidian hidden in this town. Where?"

"Wha- we don't have anything," Seth said slowly.

"Oh, really?" Herobrine said, tilting his head. "Are you certain?"

"Y-yes."

"Of course," Herobrine mumbled, pulling a dagger from his boot and calmly cutting off Seth's pinky finger.

Seth screamed, and Herobrine easy hefted his body up, slamming it into the railing once, twice, and then tossing him from the watchtower. Seth screamed, flailing wildly, before something wrapped around his ankle. Unpleasantly, he was slammed against the side of the watchtower, pulling him up and dropping him back inside the watch tower. Taking his bloody dagger and pushing it against Seth's neck, he said, "Are you absolutely certain that you have no obsidian?"

"I-I-" Seth stuttered.

Herobrine raised his dagger, hefting the Minecrafter back into the air once more. "Really now, Seth, I don't want to do this anymore than you do. So think carefully about your next answer. Because it may be your last." He held the Minecrafter's face close to his own. "I may try to break your mayor next."

"Buried under the watchtower," Seth choked.

"Perfect," Herobrine said, dropping him. He turned towards the hatch leading downwards; after a moment of waiting, he tossed the dagger into the first man's throat and disappeared.

He disappeared, traveling down through the watchtower, slipping through the dirt and into the ground. He reformed in a small, man-made cave, grimacing slightly – traveling through solid substances was always uncomfortable – and glancing around. It was dark – dark enough for one of his mobs to easily form – and there was an iron door to his left and a small chest just in front of him.

He opened the chest, grinning widely at the contents, and slipped a flint and steel out of his back pocket.

* * *

The town was in shambles. Fire swept over the homes, lighting a bright beacon against the black of night, and thick, dark smoke polluted the air. Wooden homes were smeared with blood as zombies shambled through Luthan – a dozen or so were bandits in their lives that had ended hours ago.

"So," Xephos said nonchalantly through Sky's mind – since he had been slain in "battle" he couldn't reform into his ghostly avatar quite yet, though he could still speak through the sword. "The god sent Arte out to make sure no Wither servants interrupted his little siege, but I, ah, 'persuaded' him to change course a bit."

Sky stayed silent, rushing into the town. The stables were to his left; a pair of zombies were hunched over a still form, blood covering their mouths. He stopped, pushing down the bile rising into his throat, and used Sanglomore to burn them into death-smoke.

Xephos's words finally registered, and a thought formed in his mind. Holding Sanglomore out tentatively, keeping his eyes alert, the sword began to glow faintly and mist began to pour off of it. It pooled at his feet, slowly sharpening and forming into the spirit of Arte.

Arte straightened, in a set of full armor sans helmet, a metal shield and a spiritual Sanglomore in his hands. He pressed a hand to his head, grimacing and glancing around.

"Hey," Sky said lightly. "Do you, uh, listen to me, or...?"

Wincing slightly, Arte said, "I serve the one that summons me." Under his breath, he added, "Even if Lord Herobrine gets in a rage when he don't listen to him."

"Good," Sky replied. "Then go kill the mobs." Arte gave a nod, turning and dashing into the mayhem of the village.

"So you escaped."

A fist slammed into his back and he was tossed through the air. His grip on Sanglomore tightened as he smashed into a building, crying out. He stumbled to his feet and away before any burning areas of the building could fall onto him, and Herobrine, in full iron armor and an iron sword gripped in his hands, appeared above him, floating in the air.

"And I was going to let you go," the god said sadly before jabbing downwards. Sky rolled out of the way, leaping to his feet and launching a wave of flame at Herobrine. It slammed into the god, tossing him into a building consumed by flame; after a moment of silence, the god leaped out of the fire, unharmed.

Herobrine lunged forward, sword snapping towards Sky's face, and the Minecraft ducked to the side, swinging a wave of flame at the god. Herobrine, however, was braced for the harmless impact and rolled through it, straightening quickly. In a one-hand grip, his sword met Sanglomore, locking before his other hand jerked upwards, a bloody dagger in his hands arcing for Sky's head.

"Arte!" Sky yelled as he ducked under the dagger, the two combatants' sword sliding away. With a desperate motion he slammed his fist and Sanglomore's hilt into the god's midsection, forcing him to stagger away.

Arte suddenly appeared, mumbling a "Sorry, Lord Herobrine," before his shield smashed into the god's head. Herobrine grunted, rolling away as the pair of Sanglomore wielders slowly advanced upon him.

Arte leaped forward in a half-hearted rush, and Herobrine ducked, slipping his sword straight through the spirit's armor and into his leg. Arte groaned, knees buckling, and Herobrine kicked his stomach, sending him flying onto his back. Sky growled, leaping forward after the spirit, and Herobrine ducked under the sword swing, ramming his head into Sky's chest and sending him back and into a house roughly.

The god dashed forward, slashing downwards and locking blades with Sky once more. Herobrine grunted, shoving Sky onto his back. He smashed his foot into Sky's fingers, kicking Sanglomore away from the Minecrafter, raising his sword and-

-and stopped short as the blade slipped through his back, straight through the armor and coming right through his stomach.

Herobrine staggered off of Sky, empty hand clutching at his stomach. Sky scrambled backwards, lunging for Sanglomore, and Herobrine's eyes filled with anger; he brought his sword down on the thin blade piercing his body and it shattered, sending the dented upper half of the saber away. He dropped his now-dented iron blade, jerking forward and forcing the jagged saber out of his back. He turned, dagger appearing in his hands, and plunged it into Seth's surprised form.

Sky lunged toward the god, Sanglomore high in his hands, and he swung the sword at Herobrine. A moment later the god was smoke drifting into the air, gone.

Sky growled in frustration as the remnants of the god dissipated. He glanced around; a few zombies and a spider had gathered to watch the fight, and now they advanced on him and Seth in anger. Arte grumbled something, standing from his downed position – it had taken him a _surprisingly _long time to stand from his simple leg wound – and bowled into the mobs.

Sky turned his gaze to Seth who was at his feet. His side, where he'd been stabbed, was quickly being covered in sticky blood; one of his hands was covered in red as well, and it seemed he was missing a finger. Sky grimaced, sheathing Sanglomore and grabbing the Minecrafter, shifting him up and onto his back. He turned, ready to flee to-

-where, exactly?

His eyes roved around the destroyed, flaming village, and then stopped on the stables.

He sprinted towards it, vaguely aware of Arte loosely following them, the spirit keeping the mobs away. He dashed inside the building – flames loosely licked at one edge of its roof, but it was still solidly standing. Four horses whinnied in alarm – more accurately, three horses and a donkey.

He set Seth down on the ground, hurrying over to the entrance where a chest lay. He pulled it open, digging out three saddles and paused – did he need three or two...? - and after a moment fully decided on three. He quickly saddled the first two horses – both varying shades of brown that he managed to calm down rather quickly – and moved onto the third, a large, black horse that pulled away from him viciously.

He stroked the horse's mane gently, and the horse bared its teeth, pressing itself against the wall and yelling. That's when he spotted it – a long, deep red gash on its flank.

Oh, hell.

"Sorry, you," he whispered, taking Sanglomore and ending the horse before the undead in the town could.

Next he saddled up the donkey, which seemed to be the most calm of the horses, and pulled the three animals out of their stalls and outside, where Arte was dealing with a pack of spiders. He picked Seth up and, after a moment of thought, shoved him into the donkey's saddle, tying him into it to keep him upright.

He mounted one of the horses, taking a rope and tying it around each of the other animals, and then set off, leading them out of the city at a brisk pace. He sighed, exhaustion flooding into him as the adrenaline went on vacation; glancing up, he saw the stars beginning to fade, the moon slowly descending out of the air. The horizon began to shine a brilliant red, and the tree branches to his right began to part as something stepped out of them-

He jerked to a halt, Sanglomore in his hand in an instant.

Ryan stepped out of the trees, swaying slightly.

"I think I have a concussion," he announced before he collapsed.

* * *

And that's that. RIP in peace, Luthan and anyone that was unimportant from it.


End file.
